


'^^ .^\V 



\' * 



'\ 



0' 












■■'■r. ,^- 













•* 


'.-.v*^ -'- 




^OQ- 


'-''''- .. 




.< --^ 















'A 



.^^ ^*. 



'^cr> .^^^^ 


•* 




'■->■>' 


\ ' « 





0an0-00uci Series 



v/ 



MEN AND MANNERS 

IN 

AMERICA 
ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO 

« 

EDITED BY 

H. E. "SCUDDER 



^. 







NEW YORK 

SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANY 

1876 



^■s 



COPYRIGHT. 

SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, & CO. 

1876. 



.i-- ■ ^ 



V ^\ 



stereotyped and Printed 5jf Ra/id, Avery, 6^ Co., Boston. 



CONTENTS. 



• ♦ 

NEW ENGLAND. pack 

The Siege of Boston 19 

A Bit of Yankee Humor 21 

Two Tory Ladies 22 

The Faneuil Hall Theatre 23 

The Evacuation of the Town 26 

The Soldiers in Cambridge Camp ... . . 29 

^Sharpshgoting 30 

The Greenness of Soldiers 32 

The Officers and their Society .... 34 

The Baronness Riedesel at Cambridge . . 36 

A German Portrait of New-Eng landers ... 41 

New-Englanders seen by a British Officer . 41 

Social Rank in College 45 

Commons 47 

An Old-time College President .... 49 

Gov. Trumbull 51 

Col. John Trumbull 52 

Early School-Days 53 

Preparation for College 54 

John Singleton Copley 56 

College Life 57 

The Beginning of the War 58 

The Character of the Troops 60 

Trumbull's Plan of the Enemy's Works . . 61 

Return to Art 62 

Benjamin West 63 

Arrest as an Offset to Andre 65 

3 



4 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Released through West's Influence ... 70 

Connecticut and Athens 72 

A Lost OrpoRTUNiTY 74 

Sir Joshua Reynolds and Benjamin West . . 75 

^ Pictures of the American Revolution ... 77 

A Banker for the Artist 78 

Mrs. Wright 80 

Mrs. Wright and Franklin's Head .... 83 

An Evening with Franklin 86 

An American's Moment of Triumph .... 88 

New-England Seacoast Life 92 

The Beginning of the Whale-Fishery ... 92 

The Mode of Whale-Fishing 94 

Peculiar Customs at Nantucket .... 97 

Nantucket Women 100 

~ New Settlements 103 

Characteristics of the New-England Colonies 105 

A New-England Boyhood 107 

First Schooling no 

A New-England District School . . . .111 

A Boy's Books in the Last Century . . . 114 

A Printer's Apprentice 115 

The Printing Business in Boston . . . . 118 

NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

The Town of Albany 122 

The Neighborhood 124 

Education and Early Habits of the Albanians . 125 

Amusements 127 

Rural Excursions 129 

Winter Amusements 132 

Fashionable Pig-Stealing 133- 

Lay-Brothers 136 

Miss Schuyler, the "American Lady" . . .138 

Marriage of Miss Schuyler 140 

Philip Schuyler 142 

New York 144 

The House and Rural Economy of the Flats . 146 

Col. Schuyler's Barn 

Occupations of the Day 15 

\ 



CONTENTS. 5 

PAGE 

The Servants of the House 154 

The Resources of the Schuylers . . . .157 

A Universal Aunt 159 

Sir William Johnson 161 

Burning of the House at the Flats . . . 164 

Mrs. Grant's Early Life 167 

Introduction to Milton 169 

Milton introduces her to Aunt Schuyler . . 170 

^ Madame Riedesel and Gen. Schuyler . . . 172 

The Temper of the Colonists 176 

An English Girl and Gen. Putnam ... 181 

The Great Torpedo 185 

Joe Bettys . ^ 190^ 

A Day with Washington 193" 

The Custom of Toasting 197 

A Portrait of Washington 198 

Princeton and Dr. Witherspoon .... 200 

PENNSYL VANIA. 

A Philadelphia Schoolmaster 202 

Mr. John Beveridge 205 

The Paxton Boys 208 

Ogle and Friend 211 

Swimming and Skating 214 

The Slate-Roof House 217 

The Guests of the Slate-Roof House . . . 219 

Lady Moore and Lady O'Brien .... 221 

Sir William Draper 223 

Major Etherington 226 

The Battle of the Kegs 228 

Habits of Society in Philadelphia . . . 230 

Affectation of French Manners .... 232 

Gentlemen's Dress 233 

Ladies' Dress 236 

Watches 238 

The Furniture of a House 238 

Tea and Chocolate 241 

An Old-fashioned Apprentice 241 

A Superstitious Tailor 242 

Washington in Philadelphia 244 



6 CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

The Chevalier du B c 248 

The Ephratah Institution 254 

The Entry of the British Army into Philadelphia 256 

The Meschianza at Philadelphia .... 259 

Privations 265 

Valley Forge 268 

Old Doctors 269 

Lydia Darrah 274 

Anecdotes of Robert Morris 276. 

Literary Cartridges 280 

Baron Steuben 280 

THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

Bought for a Song ....*... 284 

A Maryland Country Seat 285 

An American Cincinnatus 288 

Privations of Officers 289 

Manning's Presence of Mind 291 

Col. Peter Horry 295 

Dr. Skinner 296 

Lafayette and Huger 300 

Anecdote of Joseph Wigfall 305 

Duel between Dr. Haley and Delancy . . 307 

Anecdotes of John Walters Gibes .... 308 

Gen. Thomas Polk of North Carolina . . 311 

Peeling a Prisoner , 312 

Violent Surgery , , 313 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

I. Signing the Declaration of Independence, from 

the painting by Col. John Trumbull . . Frontispiece. 

II. A Picturesque View of the State of the Na- 
tion 122 

This is taken from "The Westminster Magazine," Lon- 
don, for February, 1778, and is a satire aimed at the in- 
activity of the British forces during their occupation of 
Philadelphia, the winter of 1777-78. The following is the 
explanation printed in the magazine. 

I. The commerce of Great Britain, represented in the 
figure of a milch cow. 

II. The American Congress sawing off her horns, which 
are her natural strength and defence ; the one being already 
gone, the other just agoing. 

III. The jolly plump Dutchman milking the poor tame 
cow with great glee. 

IV., V. The Frenchman and Spaniard, each catching at 
their respective shares of the produce, and running away 
with bowls brimming full, laughing to one another at their 
success. 

VI. The good ship " Eagle " laid up, and moved at some 
distance from Philadelphia, without sails or guns, and 
showing nothing but naked port-holes : all the rest of the 
fleet invisible, nobody knows where. 

7 

X 



8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 

PAGE 

VII. The two brothers napping it, one against the other, 
in the city of Philadelphia, out of sight of fleet and army. 

VIII. The British Lion lying on the ground, fast asleep, 
so that a pug dog tramples upon him as on a lifeless log. 
He seems to see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. 

IX. A free Englishman in mourning, standing by him, 
wringing his hands, casting up his eyes in despondency 
and despair, but unable to rouse the Lion to correct all 
these invaders of his royal prerogative, and his subjects' 
property. 

It is unnecessary to add any commentary upon the above, 
the whole being too fully verified and demonstrated by 
daily authentic intelligence from all quarters; and by the 
speeches, arguments, and solemn declarations delivered in 
the great assemblies, which are inserted in this magazine, 
and will be continued in our next publication. If any thing 
could yet be wanting to give the most perfect confirmation 
of the design of the picture, the minister's recent motion 
and introductory speech, and the measures now pursuing in 
consequence thereof, are irrefragable proof, from which 
there can be no appeal. 

III. The Slate-Roof House 217 

IV. The Meschianza at Philadelphia . . . 259 



PREFACE. 




T is not impossible that the interest which we 
take in the triviaUties of our ancestors' Hves is 
due somewhat to the indifference which our 
ancestors themselves showed toward preserving what now 
we so eagerly search after. Had the men and women of a 
hundred years ago, whom we now scrutinize so diligently, 
been more self-conscious, it is possible that they would 
not have lived with quite the same freedom to do great 
deeds, or to suffer patiently. In saying this, we seem half 
to reflect upon our own generation, which can scarcely 
be obscure, one would say, to the descendants who cele- 
brate its deeds a hundred years hence. The novels of 
society, the familiar reports of every-day doings, the 
records in the illustrated papers, the magpie-like garner- 
ings of libraries and historical societies, will surely em- 
barrass the chiffonier who scratches in the dust-heap in 
the next century, by the very abundance of material. 

Yet, after all, then, as now, it will be rather the uncon- 
scious expressions of men and women, which will sparkle, 
and attract the eye ; and we may even hope that the 
brass and brilliance which now confuse contemporaneous 
judgment will have so receded from hearing and sight, 

9 



10 PREFACE. 

that a clear field will be found for the display of private 
and civic virtue, existing now in the knowledge of right- 
minded men, and finding record in one form or another, 
though not the most conspicuous form. 

In searching thus for such sketches of life a hun- 
dred years ago as shall give us a glimpse of those who 
belonged to the heroic years of the Republic, we are 
constantly reminded, that they are to be found in half- 
forgotten annals or unpretentious books. In some cases, 
it is true, the affectionate regard of a generation imme- 
diately succeeding has preserved for us records, which, 
from the first, had a preciousness. Again, the survivors 
of the period, whose lives had issued in a sunnier time, 
found a wise delight in the reminiscences which a young- 
er generation received with eagerness. It must be con- 
fessed, however, that our forefathers rarely had that gift 
of anecdote which comes partly by nature, but more by 
constant practice under favoring conditions. " English 
stories, bon-mots, and the recorded table-talk of their 
wits," says Emerson in " English Traits," " are as good 
as the best of the French. In America we are apt schol- 
ars, but have not yet attained the same perfection ; for 
the range of nations from which London draws, and the 
steep contrasts of condition, create the picturesque in 
society, as broken country makes picturesque landscape ; 
whilst our prevailing equality makes a prairie tameness. 
And, secondly, because the usage of a dress dinner every 
day at dark has a tendency to hive and produce to ad- 
vantage every thing good. Much attrition has worn 
every sentence into a bullet." 

The plan of this volume is as simple as could be de- 
vised. I have taken the period which we call a hundred 
years ago, keeping within the general limits of the gen- 



PREFACE, II 

eration which was at maturity during the War for Inde- 
pendence ; and, rambling over the thirteen colonies, have 
gone to this book and that for such familiar, and often- 
times quite unliterary, accounts of contemporaneous life, 
as seemed likely to furnish one with a light and intelli- 
gible view of society and persons at that time. The 
heroic and the homely lie side by side in this volume, as 
they were in juxtaposition in life. There is nothing ex- 
haustive about the book. I have dipped here and there 
into letters, journals, and volumes of reminiscences, only 
seeking, as far as possible, to allow the life of the times 
to be depicted by the persons who lived then ; so that all 
should be at first-hand. Whatever worth there may be in 
the reports of travellers then is enhanced by the air with 
which they tell their stories ; and I should be sorry to 
break in upon some of the delicious passages, for exam- 
ple, in Mrs. Grant's " American Lady," by any comments 
of my own, pertinent or impertinent. The reader is not 
likely to witness the good lady's mystification over the 
delights of " coasting," or " sliding down hill," and miss 
the pleasure of smiling politely behind his hand ; nor 
will the same intelligent reader fail to represent to him- 
self the piquant Baroness Riedesel, who always seems 
to say every thing with an accent. 

For convenience, the various sketches have been 
grouped under the heads of the several sections of the 
country. In New England, the relative importance of 
Boston and Cambridge was greater then than now ; and 
scenes and incidents connected with the two places take 
the precedence. Boston narrowly escaped destruction 
from the hands both of its friends and of its enemies. 
What would have happened, had it been destroyed, in- 
stead of besieged, it is hard to say ; but there is reason to 



12 PREFACE, 

believe that the site of the Old South would have been 
marked by a monument, and the good people would 
never have ceased to regret the historic church. The 
Province House would have lived in the memory ; the 
Old State House would have been mourned over in a 
hopeless way ; and the spot where Faneuil Hall stood 
would have been railed about as too sacred to be trod 
upon. But now, since the city escaped all that, we can 
only regret the loss of Winthrop's house, and make up 
for a tardy destruction by casting an evil eye on each of 
the public buildings in town. If we can once get rid 
of the Old South and Faneuil Hall, and the Old State 
House, we can have the satisfaction of perpetuating our 
regret by marble tablets on the several spots. 

The siege of Boston was a tragedy without a fifth act ; 
and the story of the life led within the town is told best 
by the letters of that hopeful merchant, John Andrews, 
preserved for us in the Proceedings of the Massachu- 
setts Historical Society. From current journals, as ex- 
cerpted from by Mr. Frank Moore in his " Diary of the 
American Revolution," one may catch a notion of how 
the history that was making appealed to the makers of 
it, although the journals of the day are meagre enough. 
I have taken passages here and there from these two 
volumes. The Baron and Baroness Riedesel also, whom 
the fortune of war enabled to see something of New 
England and the Middle States, left some record in their 
Journals ; and these, translated and edited by W. L. 
Stone, have furnished some very naive reports. From 
The Harvard Book, a repertory of college traditions, I 
have taken a page or two descriptive of peculiarities of 
college life, which always retains much the same flavor ; 
since, whatever changes take place among grown people, 



PREFACE. 13 

youth has its own mysterious, unchanging laws. Sidney 
Willard's " Memories of Youth and Manhood " has fur- 
nished some hints of the rulers of the college. 

The most personal narrative in this portion is derived 
from the fresh and entertaining pages of John Trum- 
bull in his "Autobiography : Reminiscences and Letters 
from 1756 to 1841." It is from the early part only of 
this volume that I have drawn, as we have to do only 
with the period embraced in Trumbull's early life, and 
adventures in Europe. The artist in him was very strong ; 
and the sketches given in the volume indicate, more than 
do his finished pictures, a capacity for character-drawing 
which seems never to have had a fair chance, so early 
was he brought under the influence of the stilted histori- 
cal school of the period. The insight which he gives 
into the higher life of his country — that which concerns 
itself with pictures and books — is valuable for its un- 
conscious disclosure of the misfortunes of an artistic 
temperament doomed to a Connecticut existence. 

Another volume has been drawn from to depict the 
salt life of New England. Hector St. John Crevecoeur 
was of French birth and English education : he signs 
himself St. John de Crevecoeur in the letters to Gov. 
Bowdoin, which are published in the Mass. Hist. Soc. 
Proceedings for February, 1874. He came to this coun- 
try in 1754, and settled on a farm in Orange County, 
New York. His home was broken up by the disturbances 
of the Revolution; and he returned to France in 1780, 
visiting this country again in 1783. In the interval 
was published in London his " Letters from an Ameri- 
can Farmer, describing certain provincial situations, 
manners, and customs not generally known, and con- 
veying some idea of the late and present interior cir- 



14 PREFACE. 

cumstances of the British colonies in North America: 
written for the information of a friend in England." 
The book, in its manner and tone, is influenced by the 
falsetto sentiment which found its most notable illustra- 
tion in "Paul and Virginia." But, in spite of one's impa- 
tience at this, one is induced to read it for the fresh and 
vivid descriptions which it gives of certain phases of life 
here, and is struck by the prominence which the author 
gives to what has now receded into insignificance. Then 
Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard filled a larger place in 
his mind than Charleston, and seemed especially worth 
his mention. I have selected portions of his narrative, 
but have been obliged to omit some chapters which do 
not fall behind in interest. The book has claims for a 
renewed life. 

Another book by a Frenchman — a traveller, however, 
and not a resident — has yielded a few pages. The Mar- 
quis de Chastellux was one of Count Rochambeau's ofh- 
cers, and from his rank found easy admission to the best 
society which America afforded. But it is fair to infer 
from his "Travels," that his own manner and freshness 
of nature commended him to the favor of Washington, 
and all with whom he associated. His book is certainly 
one of the most agreeable records of travel which we 
have for the period which it covers. 

Lieut. Anburey, an officer who served in Burgoyne's 
expedition, published, in two volumes, " Travels through 
the Interior Parts of America, in a Series of Letters." 
The form of his narrative enabled him to write cursorily ; 
and he makes no pretence of giving a full narrative ; but 
his observations are those of a gentleman, vexed, indeed, 
sometimes, by his unpleasant position as a prisoner of 
war, but by no means ill tempered. Like other travellers 



PREFACE. 15 

of the time, he was more observant of Nature than of 
human nature ; but he has given occasional sketches of 
the people, which are not without interest. 

There are two writers whose reminiscences have been 
drawn from slightly in the early part of the volume ; both 
New-Englanders, but belonging in two quite distinct 
circles. Elkanah Watson was a well-to-do merchant, 
whose portrait was painted by Copley, in itself a guar- 
anty of respectability. He saw a little of volunteer- 
service, but during much of the Revolution was in Europe, 
engaged in mercantile transactions. On his return, he 
interested himself in many matters of public concern, but 
never was properly a public man. The titlepage of the 
book containing his reminiscences reads, " Men and 
Times of the Revolution ; or, Memoirs of Elkanah Wat- 
son, including his Journals of Travels in Europe and 
America from the year 1777 to 1842, and his correspond- 
ence with public men, and reminiscences and incidents 
of the American Revolution. Edited by his son, Wins- 
low C. Watson." From this book I have taken some 
amusing sketches, in which -Franklin figures, and the 
graphic picture of scenes in the House of Lords upon 
occasion of the king's speech announcing his recogni- 
tion of American independence. This book and Trum- 
bull's Autobiography illustrate the reflection of American 
life in Europe. 

Joseph Tinker Buckingham was also a New-England 
boy ; but he represents rather the class which is either 
literary, or allied to literature. The greater part of his 
"Personal Memoirs, and Recollections of Editorial Life," 
deals with a later period ; but the opening chapters, from 
which I have drawn, give a pathetic picture of a New- 
England boy's life and struggles in the direction taken 
by so many since. 



1 6 PREFACE. 

Leaving New England, the fullest description of do- 
mestic and social life in New York is unquestionably 
to be found in " Memoirs of an American Lady, with 
Sketches of Manners and Scenery in America, as they 
existed previous to the Revolution." By Mrs. Anne Grant, 
commonly called Mrs. Grant of Laggan. The author, a 
daughter of Duncan McVickar, — a Scottish officer of 
the British army, — was with her father when he was on 
duty in Albany and the neighborhood, in 1757. She was 
a mere child then ; but fortune threw her into the com- 
panionship of Madam Schuyler, widow of Col. Philip 
Schuyler ; and from her she learned much of the private 
history of a generous family. She returned to Scotland, 
and married the Rev. James Grant of Laggan, Invernes- 
shire, who left her a widow in 1801. She was ambitious 
of literary distinction, but will be remembered by this 
book, which, after all, owes its charm to its subject, rather 
than to any peculiar grace in Mrs. Grant's style ; though 
at times she has the true air of a charming old lady 
telling of her girlhood. 

For the sketches of Philadelphia and of Pennsylvania 
life in general, we turn, perforce, to " Watson's Annals," — 
a book which could only spring from a genuine love of 
antiquities, and of the city which it honors. Philadel- 
phia and Boston are fortunate in having had their local 
antiquaries ; but, for fulness of detail and delightful inco- 
herence, Watson bears off the palm. The leisurely title- 
page of his work prepares one for the steady flow of 
anecdote and localization which follows : " Annals of 
Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, in the olden time ; being 
a collection of memoirs, anecdotes and incidents of the 
city and its inhabitants, and of the earliest settlements 
of the inland part of Pennsylvania, from the Days of the 



PREFACE, 17 

Founders. Intended to preserve the recollections of 
olden time, and to exhibit society in its changes of man- 
ners and customs, and the city and country in their local 
changes and improvements. By John F. Watson, mem- 
ber of the Historical Societies of Pennsylvania, New 
York and Massachusetts." With this is to be named 
another source of my material, — the racy " Memoirs of 
his own Time ; with Reminiscences of the Men • and 
Events of the Revolution, by Alexander Graydon, Esq., 
edited by John Stockton Littell." 

For the Southern Colonies, I have relied upon Garden's 
" Anecdotes of the American Revolution," and " Tra- 
ditions and Reminiscences chiefly of the American 
Revolution in the South ; including biographical sketches, 
incidents and anecdotes, few of which have been 
published, particularly of residents in the upper country. 
By Joseph Johnson, M.D., of Charleston, S.C." 

The material was more abundant for the Northern 
Colonies, since the life led there was grouped more 
decidedly about cities ; and cities make society and anec- 
dotes. De Quincey, in his paper " On War," says, " All 
anecdotes, I fear, are false. I am sorry to say so ; but 
my duty to the reader extorts from me the disagree- 
able confession, as upon a matter specially investigated 
by myself, that all dealers in anecdotes are tainted with 
mendacity. 'Where is the Scotchman,' said Dr. Johnson, 
' who does not prefer Scotland to truth 1 ' But, however 
this may be, rarer than such a Scotchman, rarer than the 
phoenix, is that virtuous man : a monster he is, nay, he 
is an impossible man, who will consent to lose a pros- 
perous anecdote on the consideration that it happens to 
be a lie. All history, therefore, — being built partly, and 
some of it altogether, upon anecdotage, — must be a tissue 



1 8 PREFACE. 

of lies. . . . Are these works, then, to be held cheap, 
because their truths to their falshoods are in the ratio of 
one to five hundred ? On the contrary, they are better, 
and more to be esteemed on that account ; because 7iow 
they are admirable reading on a winter's night, whereas, 
written on the principle of sticking to the truth, they 
would have been as dull as ditch-water. Generally, 
therefore, the dealers in anecdotage are to be viewed with 
admiration, as patriotic citizens, willing to sacrifice their 
own characters, lest their countrymen should find them- 
selves short of amusement." Having thus disarmed the 
critic, by admitting beforehand all that he could object, 
I invite the gentler reader to put himself under the lead 
of the " patriotic citizens." 

To the various authors of the books used, and to their 
several editors, I return my thanks for the pleasure I 
have found in following their narratives. I beg the 
reader to believe that I have not stripped the trees of 
all their fruit. My work has been to arrange this ma- 
terial, and I have distinguished my own phrases by 
enclosing them in brackets [ ]. The footnotes have 
been credited to the authors, where any obscurity was 
likely to occur. 

H. E. S. 




NEW ENGLAND. 




The Siege of Boston. 

i|HERE are a good many diaries and letters which 
throw light upon the early movements of the patriots 
about Boston ; and the prominence of Lexington, 
Concord, and Bunker Hill, have served to brins: out 



between the British and colonial forces. The events of the 
siege of Boston were not of a character to receive so much 
illustration from contemporaneous writers ; but it chanced that 
there remained in the town during the siege a lively merchant, 
named John Andrews, who had been carrying on a corre- 
spondence with his brother-in-law, William Barrell of Phila- 
delphia ; and, although the correspondence during the actual 
siege was interrupted, the letters, which were in a half journal 
form, that preceded and followed the siege, furnish the best 
knowledge that we have of the interior life of Boston at this 
time.] 

Near half the inhabitants [he writes May 6, 177 S] have 
left the town already ; and another quarter, a^ leasts have been 
waiting for a week past with earnest expectation of getting 
papers, which have been dealt out very sparingly of late, not 
above two or three procured of a day, and those with the 
greatest difficulty. It's a fortnight yesterday since the com- 
munication between the town and country was stopped. Of 
consequence, our eyes have not been blessed with either vege- 

19 



20 NEW ENGLAND. 

tables or fresh provision. How long we shall continue in this 
wretched state, God only knows ; but that no more blood may- 
be shed is the earnest wish and prayer of your affectionate 
friend. . . . You can have no conception, Bill, of the dis- 
tresses the people in general are involved in. You'll see 
parents that are lucky enough to procure papers, with bundles 
in one hand and a string of children in the other, wandering 
out of the Xovivi{\y\i\\only7!iSiiiJ'era?ice of 07ie day's permis- 
sion), not knowing whither they'll go. Such, Bill, are but 
faint emblems of the distresses that seem to threaten us, 
which I hope the Almiglity God, in his infinite wisdom, will 
avert. ... It's hard to stay cooped up here, and feed upon 
salt provisions, more especially without one's wife. Bill ; but 
at the same time would not wish to have her here under the 
present disagreeable circumstances, though I find an absolute 
necessity to be here myself, as the soldiery think they have a 
license to plunder every one's house and store who leaves the 
town, of which they have given convincing proof already ; and 
the wanton destruction of property at the late fire makes the 
duty, in my mind, more incumbent on me. 

We have now and then a carcass offered for sale in the 
market, which formerly we would not have picked up in the 
street ; but, bad as it is, it readily sells for eightpence lawful 
money per pound ; and a quarter of lamb, when it makes its 
appearance, which is rarely once a week, sells for a dollar, 
weighing only three or three and a half pounds. To such 
shifts has the necessity of the times drove us. Wood not 
scarcely to be got at twenty-two shiUings a cord. Was it not 
for a trifle of salt provisions that we have, 'twould be impos- 
sible for us to live. Pork and beans one day, and beans and 
pork another, and fish when we can catch it. Am necessitated 
to submit to such living, or risk the little all I have in the 
world, which consists in my stock of goods and furniture to 



said without scruple, that those who leave the town forfeit 
all the effects they leave behind. Whether they hold it up as 
only a means to detain people or not, I can't siy ; but, in 



A BIT OF YANKEE HUMOR. 21 

regard to slaves, their actions have been consistent with the 
doctrine, however absurd. It has so far availed as to influence 
many to stay who would otherways have gone. 

A Bit of Yankee Humor. 

[Among the incidents of the British possession of the town, 
Andrews relates two, which indicate that the dry humor and 
dialect of the Yankee are not of recent discovery.] It's com- 
mon for the soldiers to fire at a target fixed in the stream at the 
bottom of the common. A countryman stood by a few days 
ago, and laughed very heartily at a whole regiment's firing, 
and not one being able to hit it. The officer observed him, 
and asked why he laughed. " Perhaps you'll be affronted if I 
tell you," replied the countryman. No, he would not, he said. 
" Why then^^'' says he, " I laugh to see how awkward they 
fire. Why., I'll be bound I hit it ten times running." — "Ah ! 
will you .'' " replied the officer. " Come try. — Soldiers, go and 
bring five of the best guns, and load 'em for this honest man." 

— " Why, you need not bring so many : let me have any one 
that comes to hand," rephed the other. " But I chuse to load 
myself.^'' He accordingly loaded, and asked the officer where 
he should fire . He replied, *' To the right," when he pulled 
tricker, and drove the ball as near the right as possible. The 
officer was amazed, and said he could not do it again, as that 
was only by chance. He loaded again. " Where shall I fire .'' " 

— " To the left,'''' when he performed as well as before. " Come, 
once more ! " says the officer. He prepared the third time. 
"Where shall I fire naowf'' — "In the centre." He took 
aim, and the ball went as exact in the middle as possible. 
The officers as well as soldiers stared, and thought the devil 
was in the man. " PFhy,^^ says the countryman, " I'll tell 3^ou 
naow. I have got a ^oy at home that will toss up an apple, 
and shoot out all the seeds as it's coming down." One more 
anecdote, and I'll close this barren day. " When the Fifty- 
ninth Regiment came from Salem, and were drawn up on each 
side the Neck, a remarkably tall countryman, near eight feet 
high, strutted between 'em, at the head of his wagon, looking 



22 NEW ENGLAND, 

very shy and contemptuously on one side and t'other, which 
attracted the notice of the whole regiment. " Ay, ay," says 
he, " you don't know what boys we have got in the country. 
I am near nine feet high, and one of the smallest among 'em," 
which caused much merriment to the spectators, as well as 
surprise to the soldiers. Indeed, Bill, were I to tell you of all 
the jokes and witticisms of the country people, I would have 
little else to do. 

Two Tory Ladies. 

[The people shut up in Boston were mainly poor trades- 
people ; but there were also many Tory families, who either 
lived there, or had come in for safety from the country about. 
One of the noted Tories in town was the sarcastic and witty 
Dr. Mather Byles, whose sayings continued to be quoted long 
after his death. Mr. Sabine in his " Loyahsts " gives further 
accounts of his two daughters.] 

They lived and died in the old family house at the corner 
of Nassau and Tremont Streets. One of them deceased in 
1835, the other in 1837. They were stout, unchanging Loyal- 
ists to the last hour of their existence. Their thread of life 
was spun out more than half a century after the royal govern- 
ment had ceased in these States ; yet they retained their love 
of and strict adherence to monarchs and monarchies, and 
refused to acknowledge that the Revolution had transferred 
their allegiance to new rulers. They were repeatedly offered 
a great price for their dwelling, but would not sell it ; nor 
would they permit improvements or alterations. They pos- 
sessed old-fashioned silver-plate, which they never used, and 
would not dispose of. They worshipped in Trinity Church 
(under which their bodies now lie), and wore on Sunday 
dresses almost as old as themselves. Among their furniture 
was a pair of bellows two centuries old, a table on which 
Franklin drank tea on his last visit to Boston, a chair which, 
more than a hundred years before, the Government of Eng- 
land had sent as a present to their grandfather, Lieut. -Gov. 
Tailer. They showed to visitors commissions to their grand- 



THE FANEUIL HALL THEATRE. 23 

father signed by Queen Anne and three of the Georges ; 
and the envelope of a letter from Pope to their grandfather. 
They had moss gathered from the birthplace of the unfortu- 
nate Lady Jane Grey. They talked of their walks arm in 
arm, on Boston Common, with Gen. Howe and Lord Percy, 
while the British army occupied Boston. They told of his 
lordship's ordering his band to play under their windows for 
their gratification. 

In the progress of the improvements in Boston, a part of 
their dwelling was removed. This had a fatal influence upon 
the elder sister. " That" said the survivor, — " that is one of 
the consequences of living in a repubhc. Had we been living 
under a king, he would have cared nothing about our little 
property, and we could have enjoyed it in our own way as 
long as we lived. But" continued she, "there is one comfort, 
that not a creature in the States will be any better for what 
we shall leave behind us." She was true to her promise ; for 
the Byles's estate passed to relatives in the Colonies. One 
of these ladies of a bygone age wrote to William the Fourth 
on his accession to the throne. They had known the sailor- 
king during the Revolution, and now assured him that the 
family of Dr. Byles always had been, and would continue to 
be, loyal to their rightful sovereign of England. 

The Faneuil Hall Theatre. 

[The mention of courtesies bestowed by Gen. Howe and 
Lord Percy calls to mind the devices of British officers to 
relieve the tedium of the siege. 

The most elaborate effort at entertainment was in the 
theatrical representations given under the patronage of Gen. 
Howe. A number of officers and ladies formed a Society for 
Promoting Theatrical Amusements, — a title which somehow 
seems to give a certain solemnity to the proceedings, — and 
did this, the announcement frankly stated, for their own 
amusement, and the benevolent purpose of contributing to the 
relief of distressed soldiers, their widows and children. Fan- 
euil Hall had been fitted up with a stage ; and the performances 



24 NEW ENGLAND, 

began at six o'clock. The entrance-fee was not immoderate, — 
one dollar for the pit, a quarter of a dollar for the gallery ; and 
the surplus over expenses was to be appropriated to the relief 
of the poor soldiers. For some reason, either because the 
play was immensely popular, or from some difficulty with the 
currency, the managers were obliged to announce, after a few 
evenings, " The managers will have the house strictly sur- 
veyed, and give out tickets for the number it will contain. 
The most positive orders are given out not to take money at 
the door ; and it is hoped gentlemen of the army will not 
use their influence over the sergeants who are doorkeepers, 
to induce them to disobey that order, as it is meant entirely 
to promote the ease and convenience of the pubHc by not 
crowding the theatre." The theatre gave some business to 
the printer, who announces that he has ready the tragedy of 
" Tamerlane " as it is to be acted at the theatre in this town. 
The tragedy of "Zara " seems to have been the favorite ; and 
the comedy of the " Busybody," the farces of the " Citizen " 
and the "Apprentice," were also given. The most notable 
piece, however, was the local farce of the " Blockade of 
Boston," by Gen. Burgoyne, whose reputation as a wit and 
dramatist has kept quite even pace with his military fame. 
On the evening of the 8th of January, it was to be given for 
the first time. The comedy of the " Busybody " had been 
acted, and the curtain was about to be drawn for the farce, 
when the actors behind the scenes heard an exaggerated re- 
port of a raid made upon Charlestown by a small party of 
Americans. One of the actors, dressed for his part, that of a 
Yankee sergeant, came forward upon the stage, called silence, 
and informed the audience that the alarm guns had been fired, 
and a battle was going on in Charlestown. The audience, 
taking this for the first scene in the new farce, applauded 
obstreperously, being determined to get all the fun there was 
to be had out of the piece, when the order was suddenly given 
in dead earnest for the officers to return to their posts. The 
audience at this was thrown into dire confusion, the officers 
jumping over the orchestra, breaking the fiddles on the way, 



THE FANEUIL HALL THEATRE. 



25 



the actors rushing about to get rid of their paint and disguises, 
the ladies alternately fainting and screaming, and the play- 
brought to great grief. Whether it was ever given or not 
does not appear ; but the " News Letter," in reporting the 
incident, intimates that the interruption was likely to last ; 
"As soon as those parts in the 'Boston Blockade' which are 
vacant by some gentlemen being ordered to Charlestown can 
be filled up, that farce will be performed with the tragedy of 
' Tamerlane.' " 

It does not appear that Burgoyne's farce was ever printed ; 
but it met easily with ridicule ; and after the siege a literary 
revenge was taken by an anonymous writer in the farce of 
the " Blockheads ; or. The Affrighted Officers," a not overnice 
production, which jeers at the situation of officers and refu- 
gees when forced to evacuate the town. The characters 
are, — 



Captain Bashaw 

Puff. . . . 

L. . d Dapper 

Shallow . 

Dupe 

Meagre . 

Surly 

Brigadier Paunch . 

Bonny 

Simple 

Jemima, wife to Simple. 

Tabitha, her daughter. 

Dorsa, her maid. 

Soldiers, women, etc. 



W 



Ad... .1. 




. G 1. 




. . d P. . . y. 




G . . . t. 


• Officers. 


10 you please. 




. G . . .y. ' 


Refugees, 


R . . .s. 


and 


B . . .e. 


Friends 


. M...y. 


to 


E . . .n. , 


Government 



It is not difficult to supply the hiatus in the names, and 
read Lord Percy, Gilbert, Gray, Ruggles, Brattle, Murray, 
Edson. Lord Percy is represented as a libertine ; and there 
is some attempt at characterizing the several Loyalists. Brat- 
tle had the reputation of being a good liver ; and Ruggles, of 
being a rough-spoken man. Probably the hits in the piece 
were more telling to those closer to the characters in time. In 
the prologue are the lines, — 



26 NEW ENGLAND. 

•' By Yankees frighted too ! oh, dire to say I 
Why, Yankees sure at Red-coats faint away 1 
Oh, yes ! they thought so too, for lackaday, 
Their general turned the blockade to a play. 
Poor vain poltroons, with justice we'll retort, 
And call them blockheads for their idle sport."] 

The Evacuation of the Town. 

[When the evacuation took place, the Tories were obh'ged 
to remove with the army ; and the sudden departure produced 
great confusion and lawlessness.^ John Andrews, who was 
an eye-witness, and a very interested one too, relates in one 
of his letters some of the scenes.] I should have set out for 
Haverhill the day after the troops evacuated the town, had 
not the small-pox prevented my lad from coming in, which 
difficulty still continues. By the earnest persuasion of your 
uncle's friends, and with the advice of the selectmen, I 
moved into his house at the time the troops, &c., were pre- 
paring for embarkation, under every difficulty you can con- 
ceive at such a time, as every day presented us with new 
scenes of the wantonness and destruction made by the sol- 
diers. I had the care of six houses with their furniture, and 
as many stores filled with effects, for eleven months past ; and, 
at a time like this, I underwent more fatigue and perplexity 
than I did through the whole siege ; for I was obliged to take 
my rounds all day, without any cessation, and scarce ever 
failed of finding depredations made upon some one or other 
of them, that I was finally necessitated to procure men, at the 
extravagant rate of two dollars a day, to sleep in the several 
houses and stores for a fortnight before the military plunderers 
went off; for as sure as they were left alone one night, so 
sure they were plundered. Poor Ben, in addition to his other 
misfortunes, suffered in this : the fellow who took charge of 
his house neglected to sleep there the third night, being 

1 " Nothing can be more diverting than to see the town in its present situation. 
All is uproar and confusion : carts, trucks, wheelbarrows, handban-ows, coaches, 
chaises, are driving as if the very devil was after them."— The Blockheads, act 
iii. bcene 3. 



THE EVACUATION OF THE TOWN. 2/ 

affrighted : the consequence was, a party of soldiers got in, 
went into his cellar, took liquors from thence, and had a revel- 
ling frolic in his parlor ; carried off and destroyed his furni- 
ture, &c., to the value of two hundred sterling, which was not 
to be named with what fifty other houses suffered, or I may 
say a hundred. 

I was obliged to pay at the rate of a dollar an hour for 
hands to assist me in moving. Such was the demand for labor- 
ers, that they were taken from me, even at that, by the Tories, 
who bid over me, for the sake of carrying away other peopW s 
effects, wherever tliey could come at them ; which so retarded 
my moving, that I was obliged to leave my kitchen furniture 
in the house I left : consequently it was broke open and rum- 
maged, and with all my crockery were carried off. Wat has 
stripped your uncle's house of every thing he could conven- 
iently carry off, which had I known that had been his intention, 
I would by no means have consented to go into it ; but, as I 
had moved most of my heavy things while he was preparing 
to go, it was too late for me to get off when I discovered it. 
Your Uncle Jerry was almost frantic about it, and said he 
should write his brother, and acquaint him that I was knowing 
to it, and yet permitted him to do it ; httle thinking that it was 
not in my power to prevent his carrying off every thing, if he 
was disposed to do it, as I only took charge of the house as 
his (Wat's) substitute. He has left all the looking-glasses and 
window-curtains, with some tables, and most of the chairs ; 
only two bedsteads and one bed, without any bedding or 
sheets, or even a rag of Hnen of any kind. Some of the china, 
and principal part of the pewter, is the sum of what he has 
left, save the library, which was packed up corded to ship ; but 
your Uncle Jerry and Mr. Austin went to him, and absolutely 
forbid it on his peril. He treated them in a very rough, cava- 
lier way ; told them they had no right to interfere with his 
business : he should do as he pleased and would not hear 
what they had to say. Upon the whole, I don't know but 
what it would have been as well if he had taken them, seeing 
matters are going to be carried with so high a hand. For any 



28 NEJF ENGLAND. 

furtlicr comfort, I have Boston on my bands, with a confirmed 
consumption upon him, whom I had not the least thought of 
being troubled with, as he was in the service of Major Sweet 
of the Forty-seventh, and had embarked with him, but was 
sent on shore again on account of his health. I am well in 
health, thank God, and have been so the whole of the time, 
but have lived at the rate of six or seven hundred sterling a 
year ; for I was determined to cat fresh provisions while it 
was to be got, let it cost what it would ; that since October I 
have scarce eat three meals of salt meat, but supplied my 
f imily with fresh at the rate of one shilling to one shiUing and 
sixpence sterling the pound. What wood was to be got was 
obliged to give at the rate of twenty dollars a cord ; and coals, 
though government had a plenty, I could not procure (not 
being an addressor or an associator^), though I offered so high 
as fifty dollars for a chaldron, and that at a season when 
Nabby and John, the only help I had, were under inoculation 
for the small-pox, that, if you'll believe me, Bill, I was necessi- 
tated to burn horse-dung. Many were the instances of the 
inhabitants being confined to the provost for purchasing fuel 
of the soldiers, when no other means offered to keep them 
from perishing with cold ; yet such was the inhumanity of our 
masters, that tliey were even denied the privilege of buying the 
surplusage of the soldiers' rations. Though you may think 
we had plenty of cheese and porter, yet we were obliged to 
give from fifteen pence to two shillings a pound for all we ate 
of the former ; and a loaf of bread of the size we formerly 
gave threepence for, though. t ourselves well off to get for a 
shilling. Butter at two shillings. Milk, for months without 
tasting any. Potatoes from nine shillings to ten shillings and 
sixpence a bushel, and every tiling else in the same strain. 
Notwithstanding which. Bill, I can safely say that I never 

* An addressor was one of those, presumably loyalists, who joined in congratu- 
l.itory addresses to Gage and Howe on different occasions. An associator was one 
of the military company of Loyal American Associators, volunteers who had 
offered their services to the commander-in-chief, a. d were enrolled under that 
name. 



THE SOLDIERS IN CAMBRIDGE CAMP, 29 

suffered the least depression of spirits other than on account 
of not having heard from Ruthy in one season for near five 
months ; for a persuasion that my country would eventually 
prevail kept up my spirits, and never suffered my hopes to 
fail> 

The Soldiers in Cambridge Camp. 

[The diaries of officers and soldiers reveal the different sides 
of character which the army presented. Here is Paul Lunt, 
who scrupulously sets down "nothing remarkable" against 
one day after another, and does not forget to go to church 
whenever it is possible, and record the text. Benjamin Craft, 
too, on the 23d of June remarks that it remains very dry, and 
" God's judgments seem to be abroad on the earth may vvc 
forsake our sins." He goes to church, also, and hears Mr. 
Murray, who prayed well, affecting Benjamin and his other 
hearers. " He was very successful in gaining the attention cf 
his hearers," which is not unlikely, from the sohtary passage 
in the sermon which is set down : " He said he believed the 
devil was a Tory." One Sunday, just after meeting, two float- 
ing-batteries came up Mystic River, and the alarm was given. 
We "fired several shot at the regulars, which made them claw 
off as soon as possible. Gen. Gage, this is like the rest cf 
your sabbath-day enterprises." Little David How — we 
know he must have been httle — kept a diary with infinite 
pains, as judged by his struggles with the spelling-book, and 
innocently draws a picture of himself as irrecoverably given 
over to swapping and trading. He buys cider and chestnuts 
and leather breeches and half-boots, and trades the same with 
an eye to profit, setting down complacently on the 30th cf 
January, "We have sold Nuts and Cyder Every Day This 
Weak." His passion for trade was too much for his mihtary 
ardor ; and he was finally given leave to set up in business as 
a bootmaker. But I cannot let him go without extracting one 
further entry from his diary.] March 5. Our people went to 

^ From some expressions in the ear'ier part of Andrews's letters, I am inclined 
to suspect that hiS great confidence in his country was, in part, an emotion after the 
iact. 



30 NEW ENGLAND. 

Dodgster hill Last Night and built a fort there. There was 
afireing of Bums all Night and they killed one man at Liteh- 
mors point with A Bum. They have ben fireng At Dogester 
almost all Day.^ 

[There were simple, affectionate men in camp, who longed to 
return to their families, but remained steadfast at their posts. 
One cannot read such artless letters as those of William 
Turner Miller,^ without finding in the uncouth garb the tender- 
ness of the Puritan nature : it is easy to pass to them from the 
earlier letters between John Winthrop and his wife.] Dearest 
Lydia, he writes, I receved your Kind Letter by Mr. Burr 
as also the Inkstand Corn & Cucumbers you sent Every 
Letter & Present from you is Like a Cordial to me in my 
absence from you my Heart is delighted in Reading Your 
Letters Especially when on the Countenance of them yoa 
Appear to be in Health and when you appear by your Letters 
to be in Trouble I Long to participate with you. [And again.] 
I receved Yours wherein you Expressed your Joy in my Not 
going to Quebeck Remember the Psalmists Expression, if I 
take the wings of the Morning and fly to the uttermost Parts 
of the Sea behold Thou art there I doubt not but where Ever 
I am god will be there and be my Stay and Support my Love 
I had it under Consideration whither to offer my Self to go to 
Quebec and had so far Concluded upon the matter that If I 
had been Requested to go I should not have Refused though 
I think it Carries, the Appearance of a Desparate under- 
taking. 

Sharpshooting. 

[The story which John Andrews tells of the countryman 
who derided the shots of the British marksmen on Boston 
Common tallies with the accounts given both by Americans 
and Englishmen of the skill of the colonists, whose back- 
woods experience had made them very ready with their fowling- 

* The struggles of this diarist with the name Dorchester never resulted in sub- 
stantial victory for the speller. Besides the above forms, he experimented on 
Docester and Dodesther. 

a New England Historical and Genealogical Register, April, 1857. 



SHA RPSHO O TING. 3 1 

I . 
pieces and matchlocks. A correspondent of the "Virginia 
Gazette " writes, " One of the gentlemen appointed to command 
a company of riflemen, to be raised in one of the frontier 
counties of Pennsylvania, had so many applications from the 
people in his neighborhood, to be enrolled for the service, that 
a greater number presented than his instructions permitted 
him to engage, and, being unwilling to give offence to any, 
thought of the following expedient. He, with a piece of chalk, 
drew on a board the figure of a nose of the common size, 
which he placed at the distance of one hundred and fifty 
yards, declaring that those who should come nearest the mark 
should be enlisted. Sixty odd hit the object. Gen. Gage, 
take care of your nose." ^ 

[The same journal gives the following further account of 
the skill of some riflemen.] On Friday evening last, arrived 
at Lancaster, Penn., on their way to the American camp, 
Capt. Cresap's company of riflemen, consisting of one hun- 
dred and thirty active, brave young fellows, many of whom 
have been in the late expedition, under Lord Dunmore, against 
the Indians. They bear in their bodies visible marks of their 
prowess^ and sliow scars and wounds which would do honor 
to Homer's Iliad. They show you, to use the poet's words, — 

"Where the gored battle bled at every veinl '' 

One of these warriors, in particular, shows the cicatrices 
of four bullet-holes through his body. These men have been 
bred in the woods to hardships and dangers from their infancy. 
They appear as if they were entirely unacquainted with, and 
had never telt, the passion of fear. With their rifles in their 
hands, they assume a kind of omnipotence over their enemies. 
One cannot mucli wonder at this,-wben we mentiaa a fact 
which- can-fee- fully attested by several of the reputable per- 
sons who were eye-witnesses of it. ," Two brothers in the com- 
pany took a piece of board five inches broad and seven inches 
long, with a bit of white paper, about the size of a dollar, 

1 Virginia Gazette, July 22. 



32 NEW ENGLAND. 

nailed in the centre ; and, while one of them supported this 
board perpendicularly between his knees, the other, at the dis- 
tance of upwards of sixty yards, and without any kind of rest, 
shot eight bullets through it successively, and spared a brother's 
thigh. Another of the company held a barrel-stave perpen- 
dicularly in his hands with one edge close to his side, while 
one of his comrades, at the same distance, and in the manner 
before mentioned, shot several bullets through it, without any 
apprehension of danger on cither side. The spectators, appear- 
ing to be amazed at these feats, were told that there were up- 
wards of fifty persons in the same company who could do the 
same thing ; that there was not one who could not plug nine- 
teen bullets out of twenty, as they termed it, within an inch 
of the head of a tenpenny nail. In short, to evince the confi- 
dence they possessed in their dexterity at this kind of arms, 
some of them proposed to stand with apples on their heads, 
while others, at the same distance, undertook to shoot them off ; 
but the people who saw the other experiments declined to be 
witnesses of this. At night, a great fire was kindled around a 
pole planted in the Court House Square, where the company, 
with the captain at their head, all naked to the waist, and 
painted like savages (except the captain, who was in an Indian 
shirt), indulged a vast concourse of people with a perfect exhi- 
bition of a war-dance, and all the manoeuvres of Indians, — 
holding council, going to war, circumventing their enemies by 
defiles, ambuscades, attacking, scalping, (Sec. It is said by 
those who are judges, that no representation could possibly 
come nearer the originaL The captain's expertness and 
agility, in particular, in these experiments, astonished every 
beholder. This morning they will set out on their march for 
Cambridge.! 

The Greenness of Soldiers. 

[The inexperience of the men who assembled in a motley 
gathering to defend their country, the queer notions they had 

* Virginia Gazette, Sept. 9, and Pennsylvania Journal, Aug. 23. 



THE GREENNESS OF SOLDIERS. 33 

of insubordination, and the general unmilitary character of the 
early soldiers, are illustrated by the reminiscences of Elkanah 
Watson, who had some slight part in the opening of the war, 
but afterward engaged in business in Europe.] 

On the 3d of July, 1775, Gen. Washington assumed the 
command of the forces then besieging Boston, He found an 
army animated with zeal and patriotism, but nearly destitute 
of every munition of war, and of powder in p^trticular. Mr. 
Brown, anticipating the war, had instructed the captains of his 
vessels to freight on their return voyages with that article. 
At this crisis, when the army before Boston had not four 
rounds to a man, most fortunately one of Mr. Brown's ships 
brought in a ton and a half of powder. It was immediately 
forwarded, under my charge, to headquarters at Cambridge. 
I took with me six or eight recruits to guard it. 

I dehvered my letter to Gen. Washington in person, and 
was deeply impressed with an emotion I cannot describe, in 
contemplating that great man, his august person, his majestic 
mien, his dignified and commanding deportment, — the more 
conspicuous, perhaps, at that moment, from the fact that he 
was in the act of admonishing a militia colonial with some 
animation. He directed a young officer to accompany me, and 
superintend the delivery of the powder at Mystic, two miles 
distant. Whilst dehvering it at the powder-house, I observed 
to the officer, " Sir, I am happy to see so many barrels of 
powder here." He whispered a secret in my ear, with an 
indiscretion that marked the novice in mihtary affairs, " These 
barrels are filled with sand." — " And wherefore .'* " I inquired. 
" To deceive the enemy," he replied, " should any spy by 
chance look in." Such was the wretched appointment of that 
army upon which rested the hopes of American liberty. 

While passing through the camp, I overheard a dialogue 
between a captain of the militia and one of his privates, which 
forcibly illustrated the character and condition of this army. 
" Bill," said the captain, "go and bring a pail of water for the 
mess." — " I sha'n't," was the reply of Bill. "// is yo2ir turn 
now, captain : I got the last." Even the elements of subor- 
3 



34 NEW ENGLAND. 

dination had then scarcely been introduced. Officers and 
men had rushed to the field under the ardent impulses of a 
common jDatriotism ; and the selections of the former by the 
troops or their appointments, "which first occurred, were rather 
accidental and temporary than controlled from any regard to 
superior position or acquirement. All, to a great extent, had 
occupied at home a social equality, the influence of which still 
remained. The distinctions of rank, and the restraints of 
military discipline and etiquette, were yet to be estabhshed. 

The Officers and their Society. 

[The mihtary operations about Boston involved little active 
fighting after the battle of Bunker Hill ; but until the evacua- 
tion of the town in March, 1776, the camp at Cambridge, with 
its lines extending on the right to Roxbury, and on the left to 
Medford, was the place where the Continental army and its 
officers were to be seen. The several generals who made 
their mark in later campaigns were objects of curiosity to the 
gentry about ; and Mrs. John Adams has sketched rapidly for 
us, in a couple of letters to her husband, the appearance of the 
most notable men.] 

The appointment of the generals, Washington and Lee, 
gives universal satisfaction. The people have the highest 
opinion of Lee's abihties ; but you know the continuation of 
the popular breath depends much upon favorable events. I 
had the pleasure of seeing both the generals and their aides- 
de-camp soon after their arrival, and of being personally made 
known to them. They very politely express their regard for 
you. Major Mifflin said he had orders from you to visit me 
at Braintree. I told him I should be very happy to see him 
there, and accordingly sent Mr. Thaxter to Cambridge, with 
a card to him and Mr. Reed to dine with me. Mrs. Warren 
and her son were to be with me. They very politely received 
the message, and lamented that they were not able to come, 
upon account of expresses which they were on that day to get 
in readiness to send off. 

I was struck with Gen. Washington. You had prepared 



THE OFFICERS AND THEIR SOCIETY. 35 

me to entertain a favorable opinion of him ; but I thought the 
half was not told me. Dignity with ease and complacency, 
the gentleman and soldier, look agreeably blended in him. 
Modesty marks every line and feature of his face. Those 
lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me : — 

" Mark his majestic fabric : he's a temple 
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine: 
His soul's the deity that lodges there ; 
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god." 

Gen. Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran, and by his 
appearance brought to my mind his namesake, Charles the 
Twelfth of Sweden. The elegance of his pen far exceeds 
that of his person. 

I have, according to your desire, been upon a visit to Mrs. 
Morgan, who keeps at Major Mifflin's. I had received a 
message from Mrs. Mifflin some time ago, desiring I would 
visit her. My father, who, you know, is very obliging in this 
way, accompanied me ; and I had the pleasure of drinking 
coffee with the doctor and his lady, the major and his lady, 
and a Mr. and Mrs. Smith from New York, a daughter of the 
famous son of liberty, Capt. Sears ; Gens. Gates and Lee ; a 
Dr. M'Henry and a Mr. Elwyn ; with many others who were 
strangers to me. I was very pohtely entertained, and noticed 
by the generals, more especially Gen. Lee, who was very 
urgent with me to tarry in town, and dine with him and the 
ladies present at Hobgoblin Hall; but I excused myself. The 
general was determined that I should not only be acquainted 
with him, but with his companions too, and therefore placed a 
chair before me, into which he ordered Mr. Spada to mount, 
and present his paw to me for a better acquaintance. I could 
not do otherwise than accept it. " That, madam," says he, 
" is the dog which Mr. has rendered famous." 

I was so little while in company with these persons, and 
the company so mixed, that it was almost impossible to form 
any judgment of them. The doctor appeared modest, and 
his lady affable and agreeable. Major Mifflin, you know, I 



36 NEW ENGLAND. 

was always an admirer of, as well as of his delicate lady. I 
believe Philadelphia must be an unfertile soil, or it would not 
produce so many unfruitful women. I always conceive of 
these persons as wanting one addition to their happiness ; but, 
in these perilous times, I know not whether it ought to be 
considered as an infelicity, since they are certainly freed from 
the anxiety every parent must feel for their rising offspring. 

I drank coffee one day with Gen. Sullivan upon Winter 
Hill. He appears to be a man of sense and spirit. His 
countenance denotes him of a warm constitution, not to be 
very suddenly moved, but, when once roused, not very easily 
lulled, easy and social, well calculated for a mihtary station, 
as he seems to be possessed of those popular qualities neces- 
sary to attach men to him. 

The Baroness Riedesel at Cambridge. 

[The town of Boston and its immediate neighborhood heard 
little from this time of the actual conduct of the war ; but in 
the fall of 1777 there was much excitement over the arrival 
there of Burgoyne's army, which had been surrendered to 
Gen. Gates at Saratoga, and was in waiting to be transported 
to England. Prominent among the officers was the German 
general, Riedesel, who with his bright, naive wife were quar- 
tered in the Lechmere mansion, still standing in Cambridge. 
The Baroness Riedesel gives a lively account of their stay 
there ; and, if she indulges in some credulous gossip, it is 
quite permissible for any reader to reject what is disagreeable.] 

At last we arrived at Boston ; and our troops were quar- 
tered in barracks not far from Winter Hill.^ We were 
billeted at the house of a countryman, where we had only one 
room under the roof. My women-servants slept on the floor, 
and our men-servants in the entry. Some straw, which I 
placed under our beds, served us for a long time, as I had 

* Winter Hill, where most of the German prisoners were quartered, was at 
that time covered with wretched barracks, made of boards, that had been erected 
there in 1775 for the purpose of affording a shelter (though a scanty one) to the 
Americans while besieging Gen. Gage in Boston. — W. C. Stone. 



THE BARONESS RIEDESEL AT CAMBRIDGE. 3/ 

with me nothing more than my own field-bed. Our host 
allowed us to eat in his room, where the whole family together 
ate and slept. The man was kind ; but the woman, in order to 
revenge herself for the trouble we brought upon her, cut up 
the prank, every time we sat down to table, of taking that 
time to comb out her children's heads, which were full of ver- 
min ; which very often entirely took away our appetites. 
And if we begged her to do this outside, or select another 
time for this operation, she would answer us, " It is my 
room, and I like to comb my children's hair at this time." 
We were obliged, therefore, to be silent, lest she should thrust 
us out of the house. 

One day the gentlemen of our party celebrated in this filthy 
place the birthday, I believe, of the Queen of England, and 
drank on this occasion a great deal of wine. My oldest little 
daughters, Gustava and Frederica, who had noticed that the 
wine that was left over had been placed under the stairs, 
thought it would be a fine thing for them, in their turn, to drink 
the queen's health. They, accordingly, seated themselves 
before the door, and toasted so much, — that is, drank healths, 
— that their little heads could not bear more. Frederica 
became sick of a fev^r, which gave me the more anxiety as 
she had spasms with it, and I was entirely at a loss to know 
the cause. When, finally. Nature helped herself by vomiting, 
then I saw that it was the wine, and blamed the little maidens 
greatly, who, however, replied that they, also, loved the king 
and queen, and could not, therefore, resist wishing them hap- 
piness. 

We remained three weeks at this place, until they trans- 
ferred us to Cambridge, where they lodged us in one cf the 
most beautiful houses cf the place, which had formerly been 
built by the wealth of the Royalists. Never had I chanced 
upon such an agreeable situation. Seven families, who were 
connected with each other, partly by the ties of relationship, 
and partly by affection, had here farms, gardens, and magnifi- 
cent houses, and not far off plantations cf fruit. The owners 
of these were in the habit of daily meeting each other in the 



38 NEW ENGLAND. 

afternoons, now at the house of one, and now at another, and 
making themselves merry with music and the dance, living 
in prosperity, united and happy, until, alas ! this ruinous war 
severed them, and left all their houses desolate, except two, 
the proprietors of which were also soon obliged to flee. 

None of our gentlemen were allowed to go into Boston. 
Curiosity and desire urged me to pay a visit to Madame Car- 
ter, the daughter of Gen. Schuyler; and I dined at her house 
several times. The city throughout is pretty, but inhabited 
by violent patriots, and full of wicked people. The women, 
especially, were so shameless, that they regarded me with 
repugnance, and even spit at me when I passed by them. 
IMadame Carter was as gentle and good as her parents ; but 
her husband was wicked and treacherous. She came often to 
visit us, and also dined at our house with the other generals. 
We sought to show them by every means our gratitude. 
They seemed, also, to have much friendship for us ; and yet, 
at the same time, this miserable Carter, when the English 
general, Howe, had burned many hamlets and small towns, 
made the horrible proposition to the Americans to chop off 
the heads of our generals, salt them down in small barrels, 
and send over to the English one of these barrels for every 
hamlet or little town burned down ; but this barbarous sug- 
gestion fortunately was not adopted. 

During my sojourn at Bristol, in England, I had made the 
acquaintance of a Capt. Fenton from Boston, to whom the 
Americans, upon the breaking-out of the war, had sent a 
summons, but which, true to his king, he would not obey. 
Upon this, the women of the exasperated rabble seized his 
wife (a woman deserving of all esteem), and his very 
beautiful daughter of fifteen years, and without regard to their 
goodness, beauty, or modesty, stripped them naked, be- 
smeared them with tar, rolled them in feathers, and in this 
condition, led them through the city as a show. What might 
not be expected from such people, inspired with the most 
bitter hatred ! 

In the same manner, there were two brothers who had 



THE BARONESS RIEDESEL AT CAMBRIDGE. 39 

loved each other very much, one of whom had espoused tlie 
side of the king, and the other that of the rcpubHcans. The 
former, desiring again to see his brother, obtained permission, 
and paid him a visit. His brother received him with great 
joy, and said to him, " How rejoiced am I to see you return 
to the good cause ! " — " No, my brother," answered the 
RoyaHst, " I remain true to my king ; but this shall not hinder 
me from loving you." At this, the American sprang up in a 
fury, seized a pistol, and threatened to shoot him if he did 
not instantly go away. All the representations of the good 
brother, that their differences of opinion should not alter his 
love, availed nothing. The other exclaimed, " Only my old 
love for you hinders me from shooting you this very moment ; 
for every Royalist is my enemy." And he would certainly 
have carried out his threat, if his brother had not finally made 
his escape. Almost every family was disunited ; and I saw 
here that nothing is more terrible than a civil war. With such 
people we were obliged to live, or see no one whatever. I 
naturally preferred the latter. 

Gen. Phillips was, and remained, ever our kind and sin- 
cere friend ; and we saw much of him. Our house, also, was 
constantly full of Englishmen, after we learned that it was 
considered by them polite usage to invite them to call again. 
Before we knew this, we observed, to our astonishment, that 
some courteous people, whom we had received kindly, came 
not again. After this, we adopted the same custom, and found 
it very convenient, since one could make a selection of those 
whose company was most agreeable. Still a few persons 
favored us with their presence unasked, who were, as the 
English term it, " barefaced." 

While in Cambridge, I saw an entire house carried off 
upon long logs, to the ends of which they had attached wheeh.. 
The house is raised by a screw, the logs shoved underneath 
it, and the building is then moved readily.^ 

* "This American manner of moving houses is as unknown to the English at the 
present day as it was to Mrs. Riedesel almost a century since. A gentleman last 
year (1S66), chancing to be in a company of intelligent and educated English peo- 



40 NEW ENGLAND. 

On the 3d of June, 1778, I gave a ball and supper in 
celebration of the birthday of my husband. I had invited to it 
all the generals and officers. The Carters, also, were there. 
Gen. Burgoyne sent an excuse, after he had made us wait till 
eight o'clock in the evening. He invariably excused himself, 
on various pretences, from coming to see us, until his depar- 
ture for England, when he came, and made me a great many 
apologies, but to which I made no other answer than that I 
should be extremely sorry if he had gone out of his way on 
our account. We danced considerably ; and our cook pre- 
pared us a magnificent supper of more than eighty covers. 
Moreover, our courtyard and garden were illuminated. As 
the birthday of the King of England came upon the following 
day, which was the fourth, it was resolved that we would not 
separate until his health had been drank ; which was done with 
the most hearty attachment to his person and his interests. 

Never, I believe, has "God save the King" been sung 
with more enthusiasm or more genuine good-v»'ill. Even both 
my oldest little daughters were there, having staid up to see 
the illumination. All eyes were full of tears ; and it seemed 
as if every one present was proud to have the spirit to ven- 
ture to do this in the midst of our enemies. Even the Car- 
ters could not shut their hearts against us. As soon as the 
company separated, we perceived that the whole house was 
surrounded by Americans, who having seen so many people 
go into the house, and having noticed, also, the illumination, 
suspected that we were planning a mutiny ; and, if the slight- 
est disturbance had arisen, it would have cost us dear. The 
Americans, when they desire to collect their troops together, 
place burning torches of pitch upon the hilltops, at which 
signal every one hastens to the rendezvous. We were once 
witnesses of this, when Gen. Howe attempted a landing at 
Boston in order to rescue the captive troops. They learned 
of this plan, as usual, long beforehand, and opened barrels of 

pie in England, alluded, in the course of conversation, to this custom, upon wh-ch his 
hearers thought he designed to hoax them ; nor was it until he had convinced them 
of having no such intention tliat they could be induced to credit '\\.."'—W. L.Stone. 



GERMAN PORTRAIT OF NEW-ENGLANDERS. 4 1 

pitch, whereupon, for three or four successive days, a large 
number of people, without shoes and stockings, and with 
guns on their backs, were seen hastily coming from all direc- 
tions, by which means so many people came together so soon, 
that it would have been a very difficult thing to effect a land- 
ing." 

A German Portrait of New-Englanders. 

[Gen. Riedesel, who was less buoyant than his wife, has 
drawn a picture of New-England people, to understand the 
color of which, one must place himself by the side of the dis- 
appointed and defeated general.] 

One can see in these men here assembled exactly the 
national character of the inhabitants of New England. They 
are distinguished from the rest by their manner of dress. 
Thus they all, under a thick, round, yellow wig, bear the hon- 
orable physiognomy of a magistrate. Their dress is after 
the old English fashion. Over this they wear, winter and 
summer, a blue blouse, with sleeves, which is fastened round 
the body by a strap. One hardly ever sees any of them with- 
out a whip. They are generally thickset, and middling tall ; 
and it is difficult to distinguish one from another. Not one- 
tenth of them can read writing ; and still fewer can write. 
This art belongs, aside from the literary men, exclusively to 
the female sex. The women are well educated, and there- 
fore know better than any other matrons in the world how to 
govern the men. The New-Englanders all want to be politi- 
cians, and love, therefore, the taverns and the grog-bowl, 
behind the latter of which they transact business, drinking 
from morning till night. They are extremely inquisitive, 
credulous, and zealous to madness for liberty ; but they are, at 
the same time, so blind, that they cannot see the heavy yoke 
imposed upon them by their congress, under which they are 
already sinking. 

New-Englanders seen b7 a British Officer. 

[One of the officers who served in Burgoyne's campaign, 
Lieut. Anburey, has given in his "Travels through the Interior 



42 iVEW ENGLAND. 

Parts of America," a frank narrative of the experience the 
defeated army went through when making their way across the 
State of Massachusetts, after the defeat at Saratoga. In his 
narrative also occur some sketches of New England character, 
which may be placed beside those of Gen. and Baroness 
Riedesel.] 

In our way hither, we passed through a small, neat town, 
called Worcester, where I met accidentally with one of the 
committee-men who was upon the examination of a poor 
fellow sent from our army to Gen. Clinton, and who very 
imprudently swallowed the silver ^^g that contained the mes- 
sage to the general, in the presence of those who took him 
prisoner. After tormenting the poor fellow with emetics and 
purgatives, till he discharged it, they immediately hung him 
up. The t.gg was opened, and the paper taken out, on which 
was written, ^^ Notes y void : here we are : nothing between 
us but Gates." The committce-77ien stared at each other, 
observing it contained no intelligence that could be of service. 
One of them, however, reflected that 7ious y void was French, 
and that might contain a good deal. None of them under- 
standing a word of that language, they sent to the jail for a 
poor Canadian, who was a prisoner, to translate it for them. 
He informed them it meant hej'e we are; but, as that was in 
English, they would not credit it. At last one very saga- 
ciously observed, that it certainly was some private mark, or 
correspondence between the two generals ; and, as none of 
them had much military knowledge, it was thought proper to 
send it to Gen. Washington, who certainly would understand 
it better. 

As we passed from this town, at a small village there were 
assembled a great concourse of people to see us march, who 
were very curious, some lifting up their hands, and praying to 
Heaven, some admiring the soldiers, others looking with 
astonishment. But among the crowd stood foremost an old 
woman, who appeared to be near an hundred, upon whom 
your old friend, Lieut. M'Neil of the Ninth Regiment, thought 
to be a little witty ; in which, however, he was fairly worsted. 



NEW-ENGLAND ERS, BY A BRITISH OFFICER. 43 

As this old woman attracted the notice of every one, when he 
passed, he said to her, " So^ you old fool, you jnust come 
and see the lions.'''' But with great archness she rephed, 
" Lions, lions / I declafe, ?tow, I think you look more like 
lambs f'' 

The lower class of these Yankees — apropos, it may not be 
amiss here just to observe to you the etymology of this term : 
it is derived from a Cherokee word, eankke, which signifies 
coward and slave. This epithet of Yankee was bestowed upon 
the inhabitants of New England by the Virginians, for not 
assisting them in a war with the Cherokees ; and they have 
always been held in derision by it. But the name has been 
more prevalent since the commencement of hostilities. The 
soldiery at Boston used it as a term of reproach ; but, after 
the affair of Bunker Hill, the Americans gloried in it. 
Yankee-doodle is now their paean, a favorite of favorites, 
played in their army, esteemed as warlike as the Grenadier's 
March : it is the lover's spell, the nurse's lullaby. After 
our rapid successes, we held the Yankees in great contempt ; 
but it was not a little mortifying to hear them play this tune 
when their army marched down to our surrender. 

We were escorted on our march by the brigade of a Gen. 
Brickett. He was very civil, and often used to ride by the 
side of the officers to converse with them. One day, as he 
was jogging along with our friend Sone, he complained to the 
general that he was very uncomfortable, in such wet weather 
and bad roads, for want of a pair of boots, and that those he 
had, with all his baggage, were taken in a batteaux j when 
the general said he would sell him those he had on. Sone 
was rather surprised at the offer of the brigadier-general, and 
asked him how many paper dollars he would take. The gen- 
eral told him he would only part with them for gold ; when Sone 
offered him a guinea for them. The general instantly got off 
his horse, and, after he had taken a pair of shoes out of his 
saddle-bags, was proceeding to pull off his boots. Sone told 
him there was no such hurry : it would do when they arrived 
at the end of the day's march. He replied, he should not be 



44 iV^W^ ENGLAND. 

long in pulling them off, and he had got a pair of country 
boots to put on, which are pieces of cloth folded round the 
leg, and tied at the knee and ankle. Upon being requested to 
defer it till we got into quarters, he mounted his horse, rode 
forwards, and on our halt diligently searched out for Sone, 
when he completed his bargain, and parted with his boots. 
So much for an American brigadicr-gefieral ! 

The character of the inhabitants of this province is im- 
proved beyond the description that our Uncle B gave us 

of them when he quitted this country thirty years ago ; but 
Puritanism and a spirit of persecution are not yet totally 
extinguished. The gentry of both sexes are hospitable and 
good-natured, with an air of civility in their behavior, but con- 
strained by formality and preciseness. Even the women, 
though easiness of carriage is peculiarly characteristic to their 
nature, appear here with much stiffness and reserve. Thev 
are formed by symmetry, handsome, and have delicate com- 
plexions : the men are tall, thin, and generally long visaged. 
Both sexes havo universally, and even proverbially, bad teeth, 
which must, probably, be occasioned by their eating so much 
molasses, making use of it at all meals, and even eating it 
with greasy pork. 

Conversing one day with a Virginia officer relative to the 
curiosity of the New-Englanders. he told me, that finding he 
never could procure any refreshment for himself or horse till 
after he answered all their questions, and they had compared 
them with their information, he adopted the following mode to 
avoid their inquisitive delays : Whenever he travelled from 
his own province to Boston, and alighted at an ordinary (the 
name given to inns in America ; and some justly merit that 
title), the master or mistress, and other company in the house, 
assembled at the door, and he began in this manner : " Wor- 
thy people, I am Mr. of Virginia, by trade a tobacco- 
planter, and a bachelor. Have some friends at Boston, whom 
I am going to\isit. My stay will be short, when I shall return 
and follow my business, as a prudent man ought to do. This 
is all I know of myself, and all I can possibly inform you. I 



SOCIAL RANK IN COLLEGE, 45 

have no news. And now, having told you every thing, have 
com])assion upon me and my horse, and give us some refresh- 
ment." 

Social Rank in College. 

[The occupation of Harvard College buildings by the troops 
during the operations about Boston interrupted the college 
work ; and it was only when the evacuation of Boston led to 
the withdrawal of forces, that the buildings were re-occupied 
by the students, and college studies resumed. The questions 
which the war introduced were eagerly discussed ; and the 
change which was rapidly going on in society without was re- 
peated within the college walls. Old customs which regarded 
social rank remained long in college, which is usually conser- 
vative ; and the next few years witnessed the gradual or violent 
disuse of manners which were dependent upon distinctions of 
rank. It is still within the memory of men, that families were 
given seats in the village church corresponding to their social 
rank ; and many were the heart-burnings that ensued. This 
placing by rank was a regular custom at college. Dr. Lothrop 
of Boston furnishes the recently published Harvard Book 
with the following anecdote regarding the breaking-up of an- 
other custom which belonged to the same period.] 

In a conversation about obsolete college-customs, I heard 
my uncle. Dr. Kirkland, say that the usage which required a 
Freshman to take off his hat if one of the higher classes was 
in the college-yard, and remain uncovered till he had entered 
one of the buildings, or was out of the college-grounds, was 
broken up by the firmness and independence of the late Prof. 
Levi Hedge ; and he related the anecdote as follows : Mr. 

D having found Mr. Hedge, a Freshman of a few weeks' 

standing, refractory upon this point, called on Pres. Willard, 
and complained that Freshman Hedge violated this custom, 
and had refused several times, when he met him, and asked 
him to take off his hat. After considering a moment, the 

president said, " D , do you go to Hedge's room, and tell 

him that I want to see him immediately ; and do you come 
back with him." D executed his errand in high glee, 



46 NEIV ENGLAXD. 

entering Hedge's room with the exclamation, " Come, Hedge, 
you must go down with me to the president's study. I have 
complained to him about your not taking off your hat ; and he 
told me to tell you that he wanted to see you immediately, 
and he said I must return with you. I guess you have got to 
take it now. Come quick." — "Certainly,'' said Hedge. " I will 
go with you immediately." And, putting on his hat, they walked 
out of the room together. The moment they emerged from 

the building, D stopped, and, turning to him, said, '' Come, 

Hedge, off with your hat, sir. I am going to have no more of 
this thing, I can tell you." — " Very well, sir," said Hedge, and, 
immediately uncovering, said, " There, sir, my hat is off, and 

now," bringing his doubled fist in close proximity with D 's 

face, — '' now take off yours." D , surprised at the new 

turn affairs had taken, hesitated a moment ; but on Hedge's 
repeating, with a tone, a look, and an expletive that evidently 
meant business, — "Take it off, sir, instantly, or I will knock 
you down ! '' — quietly took it off ; and the two walked along 
uncovered. Meeting a senior between Harvard and Massa- 
chusetts Halls, D was disposed, and made a movement, to 

put his hat on ; but the stern, determined voice came, " Keep 
it off, sir, or I will knock you down ! " So the senior smiled ; 

and D and Hedge passed on to the president's study. 

Immediately on entering, the president said, " How is this. 

Hedge ? D says you do not take off your hat when you 

see him, or meet him in the college-yard." Hedge answered, 
" I don't like the custom that prevails here. There is no law 
ordering or enforcing it, I believe. In the college-yard, or out 
of it, anywhere, I am perfectly ready to take off my hat to 
any gentleman who shows me the same courtesy." At this 
point, D broke in with an account of what had just oc- 
curred. " Ah, ha ! " says the president, " Hedge took off his hat 
the moment you asked him to do so, did he not .'' " — " Yes, sir." 
— " What did he do then .^ " — "He told me to take off my hat, 
or he would knock me down." — "Well, what did you do ?" — 
" Why, sir, I didn't want to have a fight, or be knocked down : 
so I took off my hat." — " Very well, D , I think that is a 



COMMONS. 47 

good rule for you and for others. If you don't want to be 
knocked down, take off your own hat to those whom you 
expect or desire should render a like courtesy to you." And 
so the custom was broken up. 

Commons. 

[The Harvard Book has also gathered the reminiscences of 
several respecting what seems to have made a very vivid im- 
pression upon most students' memories, viz., how and what 
they ate.] When dinner was the only meal that was regularly 
served in the hall, the students were allowed to receive at the 
kitchen-hatch, or at the buttery-hatch, a bowl of milk or choc- 
olate, with a piece of bread, or some equally simple refresh- 
ment, at morning and evening. This refreshment they could 
eat in the yard, or in their rooms. At the appointed hour for 
"bevers," as these frugal meals were named, there was a general 
rush for the buttery or kitchen ; and if the walking happened 
to be bad, or if it was winter, many ludicrous accidents usually 
occurred. One, perhaps, would slip : his bowl and its contents 
would fly this way, and his bread that ; while he, prostrate, 
afforded an excellent stumbling-block for those immediately 
behind him. These, falling in their turn, would spatter with 
the milk or chocolate not only their own persons, but the 
persons of those near them. Sometimes the spoons were the 
only tangible evidence of the meal remaining. But with a 
hearty laugh, if not injured, each would soon extricate himself 
from the recumbent mass, and, returning to the buttery or 
kitchen, would order a fresh bowl of food, to be charged with 
the sizings at the close of the quarter. . . . For many years 
prior, and for some years subsequent, to the year 1800, the 
hall where the students took their meals was usually provided 
with ten tables. At each table were placed two messes ; and 
each mess consisted of eight persons. The tables where the 
tutors and seniors sat were raised eighteen or twenty inches, 
so as to overlook the rest. As late as 1771, the names of the 
students were placed according to the rank of the parents 
of the students. Those whose names came at or near the 



48 JVEW ENGLAND. 

head pf the hst were allowed, among other privileges, " to 
help themselves first at table in commons," and took the 
most prominent positions at the commons tables. It was the 
duty of one of the tutors, or of the librarian, to " ask a blessing, 
and return thanks ; " and, in their absence, the duty devolved 
on the " senior graduate or undergraduate." The waiters were 
students chosen from the different classes ; and they received 
for their services suitable compensation. Each table was 
waited on by members of the class which occupied it, with the 
exception of the tutors' table, at which members of the senior 
class served. Unlike the sizars and servitors at the English 
universities, the waiters were usually much respected, and 
were, in many cases, the best scholars in their respective 
classes. The breakfast consisted of a specified quantity of 
coffee, a size of baker's biscuit, which was one biscuit, and a 
size of butter, which was about an ounce. If any one wished 
for more than was provided, he was obliged to size it, i.e., 
order it from the kitchen or buttery ; and the food thus 
ordered was charged as extra commons, or sizings, in the 
quarter-bill. 

At dinner, every mess was served with eight pounds of meat, 
allowing a pound to each person. On Monday and Thursday, 
the meat was boiled ; and these days were, on this account, 
commonly called boiling-days. On the other days the meat was 
roasted ; and these were accordingly named roasting-days. Two 
potatoes were allowed to each person, which he was obHged to 
pare for himself. On boiling-days, pudding and cabbage were 
added to the bill of fare, and, in their season, greens, either 
dandelion or the wild pea. Of bread, a size was the usual 
quantity for each person at dinner. Cider was the common 
beverage, having supplanted beer, which for many years was 
taken not only with dinner, but with the morning " bever," 
for which breakfast was now substituted. There was no 
stated allowance of cider ; but each student was permitted to 
drink as much as he wanted. It was brought to the table in 
pewter quart cans, two to each mess. From these cans, the 
students drank, passing from mouth to mouth, as was an- 



AN OLD-TIME COLLEGE PRESIDENT. 49 

ciently done with the wassail-bowl. The waiters replenished 
the cans as soon as they were emptied. No regular supper 
was provided ; but a bowl of milk, and a size or sizing of bread, 
procured at the kitchen, supplied the place of the evening- 
meal. 

An Old-Time College President. 

[Sidney Willard, in his " Memories of Youth and Man- 
hood," has drawn a lively picture of his father, who was presi- 
dent of Harvard College from 1781 to 1804.] His physical 
frame, to all appearance, was uncommonly well developed, in 
regard as well to symmetry as to strength. In height, he was 
five feet ten or eleven inches. His head and chest were in 
due proportion to each other : the latter was broad and capa- 
cious, and his limbs well rounded with their muscular cover- 
ing. Consequently, in standing or walking, his body was 
erect, and his movement was firm and graceful. No portrait 
of him was ever painted. A profile taken from the shadow of 
his head, intended for full size, is all that remains of this kind, 
except what is engraved on the memory of his contemporaries. 
Whenever seen out of his house, or in company, his head was 
crowned with a full-bottomed, well-dressed white wig. It was 
a great disfigurement, however much sanctioned by the fashion 
of the times, and by an association of reverence with his call- 
ing. I like best to remember him with his velvet cap in his 
study, as to the matter of costume. I remember him some- 
times in his study when dressing, without wig or cap on his 
head ; and a noble head it was, sadly wronged by its unnatural 
outward treatment. To Farnham, the peruke-king, all the 
clergy in Boston and round about, who wore wigs, looked up 
with loyal respect. He had no rival, and no pretender to the 
crown, within his realm. Every last wig that came from his 
royal hands, or was renovated thereby, he triumphantly pro- 
nounced to be his chef d'ceuvre. He gloried in Pres. Willard 
as one of his subjects. 

For his three-cornered hat, his cocked hat, my father re- 
sorted to Nathan Balch, a very worthy and respectable man, 
sometimes irreverently called Nat Balch ; a frequent guest of 
4 



50 NEW ENGLAND. 

Gov. Hancock, and entertainer of his other guests, adding 
zest to the viands and the vina at the dinner-board by anec- 
dotes and stories, mimetric art, humor, witticism, and song, 
drawn from his inexhaustible storehouse. Besides the wig, 
and shape of the hat, neither of whicli was uncommon, before 
the close of the last century, among laymen as well as clergy- 
men (except that laymen who wore full-bottomed wigs usually 
wore gray wigs instead of white), there was nothing peculiar 
in the dress of Pres. Willard. There was very little change 
in the shape of his garments from year to year, from the time 
of my early remembrance. The same thing was true generally 
of others. Fashion changed but little from middle to ad- 
vanced life. Buckles to the knee-bands and shoe-straps were 
used by the elders ; and strings or ribbons, by the youth. . . . 

His daily home-life was very uniform. At five o'clock in 
the morning, he rose from bed, and at six prayed at the college 
cliapel very constantly during term-time. In the winter he 
slept in his study, and, having covered up his coals and brands 
with ashes over night (for he used wood only for fuel), he had 
ample time in the morning to kindle his fire, and fortify him- 
self against the frosts to be encountered in his walks to the 
chapel. Soon after his return, the family devotions were held, 
followed by breakfast. The dinner-hour was one o'clock. In 
meats and drinks he was very temperate : consequent!}-, his 
constitution, naturally vigorous, was never impaired by indul- 
gence, but, on the contrary, by that abstraction of mind, and 
neglect of the body, to which men of study in all ages have 
been the most numerous victims. . . . 

Sometimes an eccentric visitor appeared. Master Moody I 
have mentioned ; Pater West, as he was often called, — Sam- 
uel West, rightfully, — of Dartmouth, a minister of the gos- 
pel, was another. How he came by the first grave praenomen, 
Pafer, I am not able to say with certainty ; but I believe it 
was given to him by his classmates at college in honor of his 
age and his sway. He was a very thinking man ; but his 
thoughts were not always uppermost about the things of im- 
mediate moment. He was in Cambridge in 179S, and made 



GOVERNOR TRUMBULL. 5 1 

my father's house his headquarters. He preached in the 
church of the first parish, having exchanged, I beheve, with 
Dr. Holmes. My father was very anxious, lest the singulari- 
ties for which he was very remarkable in the pulpit, and every- 
where else, should disturb the gravity of the students, whose 
seats were in the front-gallery ; and his anxiety was not with- 
out reason. Dr. West had, I suppose, been informed of the 
order of services in the church, or read them in the blank 
leaf of the hymn-book, and began accordingly with a short 
prayer, and read a portion of Scripture, and then a hymn, which 
was sung. But next he was in fault. He rose, and began to 
name the text of his sermon ; and Mr. John Foxcroft (who 
was wont to utter Httle Latin scraps in secular intercouse), now, 
without due reverence for Priscian's head, or for the pulpit, rose 
and addressed the preacher in bad Latin, namely, " Oblivisti 
preces, doinine.^'' The preacher heard a voice, and it may be 
an audible smile, so to speak, in the auditory ; but whether 
his monitor was not sufficiently clear in his enunciation, or 
the preacher, whose wig was seldom rightly adjusted, had 
suffered it to cover his right ear, the words were to him a dead 
letter. His monitor did not rise to correct his Latin ; and the 
preacher proceeded unembarrassed. After returning to the 
president's house, unconscious, I have no doubt, of any omis- 
sion in the public service, and prompted by a little vanity, of 
which he was not destitute, he asked, " Well, Mr. President, 
how did I make out ? " — " Very well," said the president, 
"except the omission of the long prayer." — "Well, I don't 
care," said the doctor, " they have no business to have such a 
complicated service. I have only one prayer at home." 

Governor Trumbull. 

[The individuality of public men, whether in the professions, 
or in state service, is constantly impressed upon the reader ; 
and it seems as if the men and women who come forward 
upon the historic canvas of New England, as painted by 
their descendants or visitors, were possessed of more positive 
traits than appeal to us in the highly organized life of a later 



52 NEW ENGLAND. 

day. Sidney Willard's recollections of his father and Pater 
West describe something of the clerical character ; and there 
is a quaint sketch of an old-time governor of Connecticut, 
from the pen of the bright-minded Marquis de Chastellux, 
who travelled through the country in the latter part of the war 
for independence. His journey took him to Hartford.] 

An interesting personage was then at Hartford, and I went 
to pay him a visit : this was Gov\ Trumbull, governor by ex- 
cellence, for he has been so these fifteen years, having been 
always rechosen at the end of every two years, and equally 
possessing the public esteem under the English Government 
and under that of the Congress. He is seventy years old. 
His whole life is consecrated to business, which he passion- 
ately loves, whether important or not ; or rather, with respect 
to him there is none of the latter description. He has all the 
simplicity in his dress, all the importance, and even pedantry, 
becoming the great magistrate of a small republic. He 
brought to my mind the burgomasters of Holland in the time 
of the Heinsiuses and the Barnevelts. ... I have already 
painted Gov. Trumbull [he writes on occasion of a later visit] : 
at present you have only to represent to yourself this little old 
man in the antique dress of the first settlers in this colony, 
approaching a table surrounded by twenty Hussar officers, 
and without either disconcerting himself, or losing any thing of 
his formal stiffness, pronouncing in a loud voice a long prayer 
in the form of a benedicitc. Let it not be imagined that he 
excites the laughter of his auditors. They are too well 
trained : you must, on the contrary, figure to yourself twenty 
amens issuing at once from the midst of forty mustaches, 
and you will have some idea of this little scene. 

Colonel John Trumbull. 

[The name of Gov. Trumbull recalls to most readers the 
more prominent name of his son, Col. John Trumbull, aide-de- 
camp to Washington, soldier, but more especially artist. With 
his later life we are not now concerned ; but the pictures 
which he has given us in his Autobiography are among the 



EA RL Y SCHO OL-DA YS. 5 3 

best we have for the clearness with which they set before us 
the early life of a well-born, high-minded young man, who 
had something of the divine afflatus of art, at a time and in a 
country when the afflatus needed to be pretty strong not to be 
pressed out by untoward circumstance. It is impossible to read 
the account he gives of his search for art in the inhospitable 
region of New England, without being aware of the sincerity of 
his purpose, however we may estimate the actual results of his 
search. As with many others, the instinct for art came early.] 

Early School-Days. 

My native place, Lebanon, was long celebrated for having 
the best school in New England (unless that of Master 
Moody in Newburyport might, in the opinion of some, have 
the precedence). It was kept by Nathan Tisdale, a native of 
the place, from the time when he graduated at Harvard to the 
day of his death, a period of more than thirty years, with an 
assiduity and fidelity of the- most exalted character, and be- 
came so widely known, that he had scholars from the West 
India Islands, Georgia, North and South Carolina, as well as 
from the New England and northern colonies. With this 
exemplary man and excellent scholar, I soon became a favor- 
ite. My father was his particular friend ; and my early suffer- 
ings, as well as my subsequent docility, endeared me to him. 
The school was distant from my father's house not more 
than three minutes' walk, across a beautiful green ; so that I 
was constant in my attendance ; besides which, it was an 
excellent rule of the school to have no vacations, in the long 
idleness and dissipation of which the labors of preceding 
months might be half forgotten. Whether my mind, which 
had so long been repressed by disease, sprang forward with 
increased energy so soon as the pressure upon the brain was 
removed, I know not : but I soon displayed a singular facihty 
in acquiring knowledge, particularly of languages ; so that I 
could read Greek at six years old, at which age I remember 
to have had a contest with the late Rev. Joseph Lyman, pastor 
of Hatfield in Massachusetts, a boy several years my senior. 



54 NEJV ENGLAND. 

We read the five first verses of the Gospel of St. John. I 
missed not a word ; he missed one : and I gained the victory. 
I do not mean to say, that at this time I possessed much 
more knowledge of the Greek language than might be taught 
to a parrot ; but I knew the forms of the letters, the words, 
and their sounds, and could read them accurately, although 
my knowledge of their meaning was very imperfect. 

My taste for drawing began to dawn early. It is common 
to talk of natural genius ; but I am disposed to doubt the 
existence of such a principle in the human mind : at least, in 
my own case, I can clearly trace it to mere imitation. My 
two sisters, Faith and Mary, had completed their education at 
an excellent school in Boston, where they both had been 
taught embroidery ; and the eldest, Faith, had acquired some 
knowledge of drawing, and had even painted in oil two 
heads and a landscape. These wonders were hung in my 
mother's parlor, and were among the first objects that caught 
my infant eye. I endeavored to imitate them, and for several 
years the nicely sanded floors (for carpets were then unknown 
in Lebanon) were constantly scrawled with my rude attempts 
at drawing. 

Preparation for College. 

About this time, when I was nine or ten years old, my 
father's mercantile failure took place. He had been for years 
a successful merchant, and looked forward to an old age of 
case and affluence ; but in one season almost every vessel, and 
all the property which he had upon the ocean, was swept away, 
and he was a poor man at so late a period of life as left no hope 
of retrieving his affairs. My eldest brother w^as involved in 
the wreck as a partner, which rendered the condition of the 
family utterly hopeless. My mother and sisters were deeply 
afflicted ; and although I was too young clearly to comprehend 
the cause, yet sympathy led me, too, to droop. My bodily 
health was frail, for the sufferings of early youth had left their 
impress on my constitution ; and although my mind was clear, 
and the body active, it was never strong. I therefore seldom 
joined my little schoolfellows in plays or exercises of an ath- 



PREPARATION FOR COLLEGE. 55 

letic kind ; for there I was almost sure to be vanquished ; and 
by degrees acquired new fondness for drawing, in which I 
stood unrivalled. Thus I gradually contracted a solitary 
habit, and after school-hours frequently withdrew to my own 
room to a close study of my favorite pursuit. Such was my 
character at the time of my father's failure ; and this added 
gloomy feelings to my love of solitude. I became silent, diffi- 
dent, bashful, awkward in society, and took refuge in still 
closer application to my books and my drawing. The want of 
pocket-money prevented me from joining my young compan- 
ions in any of those little expensive frolics which often lead 
to future dissipation, and thus became a blessing ; and my 
good master Tisdalc had the wisdom so to vary my studies as 
to render them rather a pleasure than a task. Thus I went 
forward without interruption, and at the age of twelve might 
have been admitted to enter college ; for I had then read 
Eutropius, Cornelius Nepos, Virgil, Cicero, Horace, and Juve- 
nal, in Latin ; the Greek Testament and Homer's Iliad in 
Greek ; and was thoroughly versed in geography, ancient and 
modern, in studying which I had the advantage (then rare) of 
a twenty-inch globe. I had also read with care Rollin's His- 
tory of Ancient Nations, also his History of the Roman Rei^ub- 
lic, Mr. Crevier's continuation of the History of the Emperors, 
and RoHin's Arts and Sciences of the Ancient Nations. In 
arithmetic alone, I met an awful stumbling-block. I became 
puzzled by a sum in division, where the divisor consisted of 
three figures : I could not comprehend the rule for ascertain- 
ing how many times it was contained in the dividend. My 
mind seemed to come to a dead stand. My master would not 
assist me, and forbade the boys to do it ; so that I well recol- 
lect the question stood on my slate unsolved nearly three 
months, to my extreme mortification. At length the solution 
seemed to flash upon my mind at once ; and I went forward, 
without further let or hinderance, through the ordinary course 
of fractions (vulgar and decimal), surveying, trigonometry, 
geometry, navigation, &c. ; so that, when I had reached the 
age of fifteen and a half years, it was stated by my master 



56 NEW ENGLAND. 

that he could teach me little more, and that I was fully quali- 
fied to enter Harvard College in the middle of the third, or 
junior year. This was approved by my father, and proposed 
to me. 

John Singleton Copley. 

In the mean time, my fondness for painting had grown with 
my growth ; and, in reading of the arts of antiquity, I had 
become famiUar with the names of Phidias and Praxiteles, of 
Zeuxis and Apelles. These names had come down through a 
series of more than two thousand years, with a celebrity and 
applause which accompanied few of those who had been devot- 
ed to the more noisy and turbulent scenes of politics or war. 
The tranquilhty of the arts seemed better suited to me than 
the more bustling scenes of life ; and I ventured to remonstrate 
with my father, stating to him that the expense of a college 
education would be inconvenient to him, and, after it was 
finished, I should still have to study some profession by which 
to procure a living : whereas, if he would place me under 
the instruction of Mr. Copley (then living in Boston, and 
whose reputation as an artist was deservedly high), the 
expense would probably not exceed that of a college educa- 
tion, and that, at the end of my time, I should possess a pro- 
fession, and the means of supporting myself, perhaps of 
assisting the family, at least my sisters. This argument 
seemed to me not bad ; but my father had not the same ven- 
eration for the fine arts that I had, and hoped to see me a 
distinguished member of one of the learned professions, 
divinity in preference. I was overruled, and in January, 1772, 
was sent to Cambridge, under the care of my brother, who, in 
passing through Boston, indulged me by taking me to see the 
works of Mr. Copley. His house was on the Common, where 
Mr. Sears's elegant granite palazso ^ now stands. A mutual 
friend of Mr. Copley and my brother, Mr. James Lovell, went 
with us to introduce us. We found Mr. Copley dressed to 
receive a party of friends at dinner. I remember his dress 

* Since remodelled, and occupied by the Somerset Club. 



COLLEGE LIFE. 57 

and appearance, — an elegant-looking man, dressed in a fine 
maroon cloth, with gilt buttons. This was dazzling to my 
unpractised eye. But his paintings, the first I had ever seen 
deserving the name, riveted, absorbed, my attention, and 
renewed all my desire to enter upon such a pursuit. 

College Life. 

But my destiny was fixed, and the next day I went to 
Cambridge, passed my examination in form, and was readily 
admitted to the junior class, who were then in the middle of 
the third year ; so that I had only to remain one year and a 
half in college. My first anxiety was to know the actual 
studies and recitations of my class ; and I soon found that I 
had no superior in Latin, that in Greek there were only two 
whom I had to fear as competitors, — Mr. Pearson, who after- 
wards became the professor of Oriental languages, and Mr. 
Theodore Parsons, brother of the late eminent judge,i who 
died a few years after we graduated. This advanced state of 
my acquirements rendered unnecessary any exertion of study 
to maintain my footing with my class ; and I was in no small 
danger of dropping into a course of idleness and vanity, and 
thence, perhaps, into low company and base pursuits, when I 
fortunately learned that a French family, who had been re- 
moved with the other inhabitants of Acadie, by the political 
prudence of England, poor but respectable, were living in 
Cambridge, and had in some instances taught the French 
language. I went immediately to Pere Robichaud, as the 
worthy man was called, and was admitted as a scholar. This 
family, besides the parents, comprised several children of both 
sexes, some about my own age. In such society I made good 
progress, and there laid the foundation of a knowledge of the 
French language, which in after-life was of eminent utility. 

In the mean time, I searched the library of the college for 
works relating to the arts, and, among a few others of less 
importance, I found the "Jesuit's Prospective made easy. By 

* Theophilus Parsons, Chief Justice of Massachusetts, who died 1813. 



58 NEW ENGLAND. 

Brooke Taylor." This I studied carefully, and still possess a 
book into which I copied most of the diagrams of the work. 
I found also, and read with attention, " Hogarth's Analysis of 
Beauty." The library contained further a few fine engravings, 
and a set of Piranesi's prints of Roman ruins. In the philo- 
sophical chamber were several of Mr. Copley's finest por- 
traits, and a view of an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, painted 
in Italy, which, with the Piranesi, had been lately presented 
to the college by Thomas Palmer, Esq., one of the alumni, 
who had travelled in Italy, and whom I had the pleasure to 
know afterwards in Berkeley Square, London. 

The principal college studies to which I paid much atten- 
tion were moral and natural philosophy. Dr. Winthrop was 
professor of the latter; and to his lectures I hstened with 
great attention and pleasure. Electricity was of very recent 
discover}', and was a source of great admiration and delight. 
Chemistry as yet was in a manner unknown as a science, 
and formed no part of our studies. 

At the same time, I copied the painting of Vesuvius twice, 
— first with water-colors on vellum, small; and afterwards in 
oil, the size of the original. One of these I presented to Prof. 
Winthrop. 

Among the engravings in the library was one from a paint- 
ing by Noel Coypel, — Rebecca at the Well, surrounded by a 
number of attendants. This I admired, and copied in oil, the 
same size as the engraving. The forms, expressions, charac- 
ters, and light and shadow, were before me : the colors I 
managed as well as I could from my own imagination. This 
received so much approbation from the officers and students 
in college, that I ventured to show it to Mr. Copley, and had 
the pleasure to hear it commended by him also. The picture 
is still preserved in the family. In July, 1773, I graduated 
without applause, for I was not a speaker, and returned to 
Lebanon. 

The Beginning of the War. 

In the summer and autumn of 1774, the angry discussions 
between Great Britain and her colonies besfan to assume a 



THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR, 59 

very serious tone. As the low growling of distant thunder 
announces the approach of the natural tempest, so did these 
discussions give evident notice that a moral storm was at 
hand ; and men began to fear that the decision of these 
angry questions must ere long be referred to the tdtiina ratio. 

I caught the growing enthusiasm. The characters of Brutus, 
of Paulus ^mihus, of the Scipios, were fresh in my remem- 
brance, and their devoted patriotism always before my eye ; 
besides, my father was now governor of the colony, and a 
patriot, of course surrounded by patriots, to whose ardent con- 
versations I hstened daily. It would have been strange if all 
this had failed to produce its natural effect. I sought for mili- 
tary information, acquired what knowledge I could, soon formed 
a small company from among the young men of the school 
and the village, taught them, or, more properly, we taught each 
other, to use the musket and to march ; and military exercises 
and studies became the favorite occupation of the day. 

Of these youthful companions, several became valuable 
officers in the war which soon followed. Two brothers, my 
very particular friends and companions, Judah and Roger 
Alden, distinguished themselves. Judah commanded a com- 
pany with which, in 1777, he covered the retreat of a recon- 
noitring column in West Chester County, and was killed in 
the defence of a bridge over the Bronx. Roger rose to the 
rank of major, and died lately, postmaster at West Point. 

On the 19th of April, 1775, the tempest, which had been 
long preparing, burst at Lexington in Massachusetts. The 
blood of our brethren cried from the earth ; and the cry 
was heard throughout New England. In Connecticut, a pro- 
visional military organization already existed ; and the First 
Regiment of Connecticut troops, commanded by Gen. Joseph 
Spencer, started into view as by magic, and was on its march 
for Boston before the ist of May. Of this regiment, I was 
adjutant. Gen. Spencer, a friend of my father, was somewhat 
advanced in life, brave but prudent ; and it was arranged that 
I should be a member of his family, — a sort of aide-de-camp. 

The regiment reached the vicinity of Boston early in May, 



60 NEW ENGLAND. 

and was stationed at Roxbury. The parade and alarm post 
was a field on the hill between the meeting-house and the then 
road, in full view of the enemy's lines at the entrance of Bos- 
ton. The entire army, if it deserved the name, was but an 
assemblage of brave, enthusiastic, undisciplined country lads ; 
the officers, in general, quite as ignorant of military life as the 
troops, excepting a few elderly men, who had seen some 
irregular service among the provincials, under Lord Amherst. 

The Character of the Troops. 

Our first occupation was to secure our own positions by 
constructing field-works for defence. The command of the 
Roxbury division, forming properly the right wing of the 
army, was intrusted to Gen. Thomas of Massachusetts, a 
brave and well-educated man of fine talents, who had seen 
some service : his headquarters were on the hill, near the 
meeting-house. 

Nothing of military importance occurred for some time. 
The enemy occasionally fired upon our working-parties, when- 
ever they approached too nigh to their works ; and, in order 
to familiarize our raw soldiers to this exposure, a small reward 
was offered in General Orders, for every ball fired by the 
enemy, which should be picked up, and brought to headquar- 
ters. This soon produced the intended effect, — a fearless emu- 
lation among the men ; but it produced, also, a very unfortu- 
nate result ; for when the soldiers saw a ball, after having 
struck, and rebounded from the ground several times {en rico- 
chet), roll sluggishly along, they would run and place a foot 
before it, to stop it, not aware that a heavy ball long retains 
sufficient impetus to overcome such an obstacle. The conse- 
quence was, that several brave lads lost their feet, which were 
crushed by the weight of the rolling shot. The order was, of 
course, withdrawn ; and they were cautioned against touching 
a ball until it was entirely at rest. One thing had been ascer- 
tained by this means, — the cahber of the enemy's guns, eigh- 
teen pounds. Thirteen-inch shells were also occasionally 
fired, some of which exploded at first, to our no small annoy- 



TRUMBULUS PLAN OF ENEMY'S WORKS. 6 1 

ance and alarm ; but some of these also, being picked up 
(having failed of igniting), were carried to headquarters, and 
by this means their dimensions were also ascertained. 

Trumbull's Plan of the Enemy's Works. 

Soon after that memorable day (June 17), Gen. Washington 
arrived, and assumed the command of the army. A few days 
after his arrival, I was told by my eldest brother, the commis- 
sary-general, that the commander-in-chief was very desirous 
of obtaining a correct plan of the enemy's works, in front of 
our position on Boston Neck ; and he advised me (as I could 
draw) to attempt to execute a view and plan as a means of 
introducing myself (probabl}^) to the favorable notice of the 
general. I took his advice, and began the attempt, by creeping 
(under the concealment of high grass) so nigh that I could 
ascertain that the work consisted of a curtain crossing the 
entrance of the town, flanked by two bastions, — one on the 
western, and the other on the eastern side ; and I had ascer- 
tained the number of guns mounted on the eastern (their 
caliber was already known), when my farther progress was 
rendered unnecessary by the desertion of one of the British 
artillery-men, who brought out with him a rude plan of the 
entire work. My drawing was also shown to the general ; and 
their correspondence proved, that, as far as I had gone, I was 
correct. This (probably) led to my future promotion; for, soon 
after, I was presented to the general, and appointed his second 
aide-de-camp : the first was Thomas Mifflin of Philadelphia, 
who was afterwards governor of the State of Pennsylvania, 
and president of Congress in 1783, when Gen. Washington 
resigned his commJssion. Joseph Reed (also of Philadelphia) 
was secretary ; and Horatio Gates, adjutant-general. 

The scene at headquarters was altogether new and strange 
to me ; for the ruined state of my father's fortune, and the 
retirement in which he lived at Lebanon, had prevented my 
having seen much of elegant society. I now suddenly found 
myself in the family of one of the most distinguished and dig- 
nified men of the age, surrounded at his table by the principal 



62 NEW ENGLAND. 

officers of the army, and in constant intercourse with them : it 
was further my duty to receive company, and do the honors of 
the house to many of the first people of the country of both 
sexes. I soon felt myself unequal to the elegant duties of my 
situation, and was gratified when Mr. Edmund Randolph (after- 
wards secretary of state) and Mr. Baylor arrived from Virginia, 
and were named aides-de-camp, to succeed Mr. Mifflin and my- 
self. Mifflin was made quartermaster-general of the army, and 
I a major of brigade at Roxbury. In this situation I was at 
home ; for it was but the duty of an adjutant upon an extended 
scale. The accuracy of my returns very soon attracted the 
notice of the adjutant-general (Gates) ; and I became in some 
degree a favorite with him. 

Return to Art. 

[Col. Trumbull, who had served as Gen. Gates's deputy 
adjutant-general, waited impatiently for his regular commis- 
sion ; and when, months afterward, it was issued by Con- 
gress, but dated three months later than the time of his 
actually taking service, his pride was so wounded, that he 
returned it, and refused all the efforts of his friends, who 
sought to bring about a compromise between him and Con- 
gress. He left the service, never to return except for a brief 
occasion as volunteer ; and finally, after desultory attempts at 
following his profession in Boston, set out for Europe upon a 
commercial speculation, which suddenly collapsed upon the 
receipt of bad news from America, — the success of the 
British in the Southern States.] 

This news was a coup de grace to my commercial project ; 
for my funds consisted in public securities of Congress, the 
value of which was annihilated by adversity. The study of the 
arts remained as a last resort, and I resolved to go to London, 
and there wait a possible change. I therefore remained but a 
short time in Paris, where I knew few except Dr. FrankHn, and 
his grandson, Temple Franklin ; John Adams, and his son, 
John Q., then a boy at school, of fourteen ; and Mr. Strange, 
the eminent engraver, and his lady. As I was sitting one 



BENJAMIN WEST. 63 

morning with Mrs. Strange, a fashionable old French lady came 
in to make her a visit. She was splendidly dressed ; but her 
face was very brown and wrinkled, with a spot of bright red 
paint, about the size of a dollar, on the centre of each check, 
then the indispensable mark of a married lady. With diffi- 
culty I suppressed the desire to laugh, which convulsed me. 
Mrs. Strange observed it, and, when her visitor was gone, 
gravely asked me what so much amused me. " My dear 
madam, to see how very strangely extremes meet. In my 
own country, I have often seen a squaw dressed in finery, 
— old, dusky, wrinkled, — with a dab of pure vermilion on 
each cheek, and little thought that the poor old savage was 
dressed in the height of Parisian fashion." 

Having obtained from Dr. Franklin a hne of introduction 
to Mr. West, I set off for London, travelling through Peronne, 
Cambray, Lisle, (Sic, to Ostend, and there embarked for Deal 
(which was then the regular packet communication between 
England and the Continent). Arrived in London, I took lodg- 
ings near the Adelphi, and sent immediate notice of my arrival 
to my friend Mr. Temple, whose address I knew : by him the 
secretary of state was informed of my residence. The next 
morning information to the same effect was lodged at the 
secretary's office by a committee of American Loyalists, who 
thought they were doing the state some service. But they 
received the incomprehensible rebuke, " You are late, gentle- 
men. Mr. Trumbull arrived yesterday at three o'clock ; and I 
knew it at four. My eye is upon him ; but I must observe to 
you, that, so long as he shall attend closely to the object of 
his pursuit, it is not the intention of government that he shall 
be interrupted." 

Benjamin West. 

I presented the letter of Dr. Franklin to Mr. West, and, 
of course, was most kindly received. His first question was, 
whether I had brought with me any specimen of my work, by 
which he could judge of my talent, and the progress I had 
made ; and, when I answered that I had not, he said, " Then 
look around the room, and see if there is any thing which you 



64 NEW ENGLAND. 

would like to copy." I did so ; and, from the many which 
adorned his painting-room, I selected a beautiful small round 
picture of a mother and two children. Mr. West looked 
keenly at me, and asked, " Do you know what you have 
chosen?" — "No, sir." — "That, Mr. Trumbull, is called the 
Madonna della Sedia, the Madonna of the Chair, one of the 
most admired works of Raphael. The selection of such a work 
is a good omen. In an adjoining room I will introduce you to 
a young countryman of ours who is studying with me : he 
will show you where to find the necessary colors, tools, &c., 
and you will make your copj in the same room." Here began 
my acquaintance with Mr. Stuart, who was after\vards so 
celebrated for his admirable portraits. With his assistance, I 
prepared my materials, and proceeded to my work. When Mr. 
West afterwards came into the room to see how I went on, 
he found me commencing my outline without the usual aid of 
squares. " Do you expect to get a correct outline by your eye 
only ? " — " Yes, sir : at least, I mean to try." — "I wish you 
success." His curiosity was excited ; and he made a visit 
daily, to mark my progress, but forebore to offer me any 
advice or instruction. When the copy was finished, and he 
had carefully examined and compared it, he said, " Mr. Trum- 
bull, I have now no hesitation to say that Nature intended you 
for a painter. You possess the essential qualities : nothing 
more is necessary, but careful and assiduous cultivation." 
With this stimulant, I devoted myself assiduously to the 
study of the art, allowing little time to make myself acquainted 
with the curiosities and amusements of the city. 

At the close of Mr. West's residence in Italy, in 1762, he 
stopped at Parma long enough to make a small copy of the 
celebrated picture by Correggio, called the St. Jerome of 
Parma, which is universally regarded as one of the three most 
perfect works of art in existence. I have since seen several 
copies by eminent men, — one by Annibal Caracci, in the col- 
lection of the Marquis of Stafford ; another by Mengs, in the 
possession of the widow of the well-known Mr. Webb, at 
Bath ; and in 1797 1 saw the original in the Louvre at Paris, 



ARREST AS AN OFFSET TO ANDRk. 65 

and have no hesitation to give it as my opinion, that Mr. 
West's copy approaches much nearer to the exquisite deli- 
cacy of expression and harmony of clair-obscure of the origi- 
nal, than any other I have seen. I cannot compare the color ; 
for, when I saw the original, it was in a room adjoining the 
Gallery of the Louvre, under the hands of some mender of 
pictures, who deserves to be flayed alive for the butchery 
which he was inflicting upon this exquisite work. He had 
cleaned the body of the infant, and whole centre of the picture, 
till all the original surface color was taken away, and nothing 
was left but the dead coloring of blue-black and white ; so 
that whatever may be its present appearance, it certainly is 
no longer the hand of Correggio, but of the cleaner. This 
picture early attracted my attention ; but the number of figures, 
and complexity of the composition, deterred me from attempt- 
ing to copy it. After having finished my Madonna, I resolved 
to attempt it ; and, with the approbation of my master, I com- 
menced again without squares, and trusting to my eye alone. 
I had not advanced far, when an event occurred, which had 
well-nigh put an end to my pursuit of the arts forever. 

Arrest as an Offset to Andre. 

On the 15th of November, 1780, news arrived in London 
of the treason of Gen. Arnold, and the death of Major Andrd. 
The Loyalists, who had carefully watched my conduct from 
the day of my arrival, now thought themselves certain of put- 
ting an end to my unintelligible security and protection. Mr. 
Andre had been the deputy adjutant-general of the British 
army, and I a deputy adjutant-general in the American ; and it 
seemed to them that I should make a ^^xizzt pendant. They, 
however, took their measures with great adroitness and pru- 
dence ; and, without mentioning my name, information was by 
them lodged at the office of the secretary of state, that there 
was actually in London (doubtless in the character of a spy) 
an officer of rank of the rebel army, a very plausible and dan- 
gerous man, Major Tyler. In the very natural irritation of 
the moment, a warrant was instantly issued for his arrest. 
S 



66 NEW ENGLAND. 

This warrant was placed in the hands of Mr. Bond of the 
police ; and the additional instruction was given to him by the 
under secretary, Sir Benjamin Thompson, afterwards Count 
Rumford (himself an American Loyalist), that " in the same 
house with the person who is named in this warrant, lodges 
another American, who there are strong reasons for believing 
to be the most dangerous man of the two. Although his 
name is not inserted in the warrant, you will not, however, fail, 
Mr. Bond, to secure Mr. Trumbull's person and papers for 
examination, as well as Major Tyler." This took place on 
Saturday. On Sunday, Winslow Warren of Plymouth, who 
was a somewhat amphibious character, and, withal, young, 
handsome, and giddy, dined at Kensington with a party of 
Loyalist gentlemen from Boston ; when the arrest of Mr. Tyler 
for high treason, and his probable fate, became a subject of 
conversation at dinner. Tyler and Warren, from similarity of 
character, had become companions in the gayeties of London ; 
and, the moment Warren learned the danger of his friend, he 
excused himself from sitting after dinner to wine, by pretend- 
ing an engagement to take tea with some ladies at the east end 
of the city, and, knowing where Tyler was engaged to dine, 
he drove with all haste, found him, and warned him of his 
danger. Of course he did not return to his lodgings, but 
prudently and safely made his escape to the Continent. In 
the mean time, a few minutes after Tyler went out on Sunday 
morning, a party of the police were stationed in an opposite 
ale-house to watch for him. I knew nothing of what was 
thus passing around me, and went out and returned several 
times during the day. In the evening I drank tea with Mr. 
and Mrs. Channing of Georgia, and did not return home until 
past eleven o'clock. I found the mistress of the house sitting 
up, waiting for us. I asked for Tyler, and was answered that 
he was not yet come in. Soon after, we were startled by a 
loud knock at the door ; and the servant came in to say that 
it was a well-dressed gentleman, who inquired for Mr. Tyler. 
"Ay," said I, "some of his merry companions, for another 
frolic." Some time after, the knock was repeated, and the 



ARREST AS AN OFFSET TO ANDRE. 6/ 

servant announced that the same gentleman had inquired 
again for Mr. Tyler, and, on being told that he was not yet 
come in, desired to see me. On entering the passage, I saw 
a very respectable-looking, middle-aged man, and requested 
him to walk into the parlor. He began with saying, " I am 
very sorry that Mr. Tyler is not at home, as I have business of 
importance with him : in short, sir, I have a warrant to arrest 
him." I replied, "that I had for some time been apprehen- 
sive that he was spending more money than he could afford." 
— " You misunderstand me: I have a warrant to arrest the 
major, not for debt, but for high treason ; and my orders are, 
at the same time, to secure your person and papers, Mr. 
Trumbull, for examination." A thunderbolt falling at my 
feet would not have been more astounding; for, conscious of 
having done nothing politically wrong, I had become as confi- 
dent of safety in London as I should have been in Lebanon. 
For a few moments I was perfectly disconcerted, and must 
have looked very like a guilty man. I saw in all its force the 
folly and the audacity of having placed myself at ease in the 
lion's den ; but, by degrees, I recovered my self-possession, 
and conversed with Mr. Bond, who waited for the return of 
Mr. Tyler until past one o'clock. He then asked for my papers, 
put them carefully under cover, which he sealed, and desired 
me also to seal ; having done this, he conducted me to a lock- 
up house^ — the Brown Bear in Drury Lane, opposite to the 
(then) police-office. Here I was locked into a room in which 
was a bed, and a strong, well-armed officer for the companion 
of my night's meditations or rest. The windows, as well as 
door, were strongly secured by iron bars and bolts ; and, seeing 
no possible means of making my retreat, I yielded to my fate, 
threw myself upon the bed, and endeavored to rest. 

At eleven o'clock next morning, I was guarded across the 
street, through a crowd of curious idlers, to the office, and 
placed in the presence of the three police magistrates. Sir 
Sampson Wright, Mr. Addington, and another. The situa- 
tion was new, painful, embarrassing. The examination began, 
and was at first conducted in a style so offensive to my 



6S NEW ENGLAND. 

feelings, that it soon roused me from my momentary weak- 
ness ; and I suddenly exclaimed, " You appear to have been 
much more habituated to the society of highwaymen and 
pickpockets than to that of gentlemen. I will put an end 
to all this insolent folly by telling you frankly who and what 
I am. I am an American ; my name is Trumbull ; I am a 
son of him whom you call the rebel governor of Connecti- 
cut ; I have served in the rebel American army ; I have had 
the honor of being an aide-de-camp to him whom you call the 
rebel Gen. Washington. These two have always in their 
power a greater number of your friends, prisoners, than you 
have of theirs. Lord George Germaine knows under what 
circumstances I came to London, and what has been my 
conduct here. I am entirely in your power ; and, after the 
hint which I have given you, treat me as you please, always 
remembering, that as I may be treated, so will your friends in 
America be treated by mine." The moment of enthusiasm 
passed, and I half feared that I had said too much : but I 
soon found that the impulse of the moment was right; for I 
was immediately, and ever after, treated with marked civihty, 
and even respect. 

Other business of the office pressed ; so, after a few words 
more, I was ordered, in custody of an officer, to Tothill-fields 
Bridewell, for safe keeping during the night, to be ready for 
a further examination the next day. I had not entirely pe- 
covered from the shock of this most unexpected event : so I 
drifted with the stream, without further struggle against my 
fate, and I slept that night in the same bed with a highway- 
man. 

The next day I was brought up to a second examination 
befo-e the same magistrates. I had avowed the crime of 
which I stood accused, — bearing arms against the king ; and 
little else remained to do, but to remand me to prison. The 
clerk was ordered to make out my mittimus. I took the lib- 
erty to look over him, and found he was directing it to the 
keeper of Clerkenwell Prison. The mob of the preceding 
summer, called Lord George Gordon's mob, had, in their mad- 



ARREST AS AN OFFSET TO ANDRk. 69 

ness, destroyed all the prisons in London except this, and, of 
course, it was filled to overflowing with every class of male- 
factors. This I knew, and therefore remonstrated against 
being placed in such detestable companionship. Sir Samp- 
son answered with great civility, and apparent kindness, " We 
must necessarily place you in confinement, Mr. Trumbull, 
and, unfortunately, this is the only prison within our jurisdic- 
tion which remains unburnt. But, if you will write a note to 
Lord George Germaine, I will myself take it to his lordship, 
and I have no doubt but you will receive a favorable answer." 
I wrote a few words ; and Sir Sampson soon returned with a 
very civil verbal answer from Lord George, " expressive of 
regret for what had happened, as being entirely unknown to 
him until it was too late to interfere ; that he was disposed to 
grant any alleviation which was in his power ; that, therefore, 
I might make choice of any prison in the kingdom, from the 
Tower down, as the safety of my person, not the infliction of 
inconvenience or vexation, was the only object of the govern- 
ment." 

A little inquiry satisfied me that it would be folly to select 
the Tower for my place of residence, as I should have to pay 
dearly for the honor, in the exorbitance of fees ; and as I 
had been pleased with the quiet of Tothill-fields, and the 
civility of the people, I chose that, and was remanded to the 
care of Mr. Smith, the keeper of that place, who, having been 
butler to the Duke of Northumberland, had the manners of a 
gentleman, and always treated me with civility and kindness. 

The building which bears the name of Tothill-fields Bride- 
well was a quadrangle of perhaps two hundred feet ; an old 
and irregular building, the house of the keeper occupying 
one angle, and part of a side ; the entrance, turnkey's room, 
tap-room, and some space for prisoners, and a small yard, 
another side ; the female apartments and yard occupy the 
third ; and the fourth was little more than a high brick wall. 
Besides the yards, a pretty little garden was enclosed within 
the walls : all windows looked upon the interior of the square. 
Its situation was behind Buckingham House, towards Pimlico. 



70 NEW ENGLAND. 

After the first shock, during which I cared not where I 
slept, or what I ate, I hired from Mr. Smith, the keeper, one 
of the rooms of his house, for which I paid a guinea a week. 
It was a parlor on the ground floor, about twenty feet square : 
the door opened upon the hall of the house, at the foot of the 
stairs, and was secured by a strong lock and bolts. Two win- 
dows looked upon the yard, and were also firmly secured by 
strong iron bars. The room was neatly furnished, and had a 
handsome bureau bed. I received my breakfast and dinner, 
whatever I chose to order and pay for, from the little public 
house, called the tap. The prison allowance of the govern- 
ment was a pennyworth of bread, and a j^enny a day : this 
I gave to the turnkey for brushing my hat, clothes, and 
shoes. Besides these comforts, I had the privilege of walking 
in the garden. Every evening, when Mr. Smith went to his 
bed, he knocked at my door, looked in, saw that I was safe, 
wished me a good-night, locked the door, drew the bolts, put 
the key in his pocket, and withdrew. In the morning, when 
he quitted his own apartment, he unlocked my door, looked in 
to see that all was safe, wished me a good-morning, and went 
his way. 

Released through West's Influence. 

The moment when Mr. West heard of my arrest was one 
of extreme anxiety to him. His love for the land of his nativi- 
ty was no secret ; and he knew that the American Loyalists 
(at the head of whom was Joseph Galloway, once a member of 
congress from Pennsylvania) were outrageous at the kindness 
which the king had long shown to him, and still continued. 
He dreaded, also, the use which might be made, to his disad- 
vantage, of the arrest, for treason, of a young American who 
had been, in a manner, domesticated under his roof, and of 
whom he had spoken publicly and with approbation. He 
therefore hurried to Buckingham House, asked an audience of 
the king, and was admitted. 

Mr. West began with stating what had induced him to take 
the liberty of this intrusion, — his anxiety lest the affair of 



RELEASED THROUGH WEST'S INELUEIVCE. /I 

my arrest might involve his own character, and diminish his 
Majesty's kindness, — spoke of my conduct during the time 
he had known me, as having been so entirely devoted to the 
study of my profession as to have left no time for political 
intrigue, &c. The king Hstened with attention, and then said, 
" West, I have known you long, and have conversed with you 
frequently. I can recollect no occasion on which you have 
ever attempted to mislead or misinform me ; and for that rea- 
son you have acquired my entire confidence. I fully believe 
all that you have now said, and assure you that my confidence 
in you is not at all diminished by this unpleasant occurrence. 
I am sorry for the young man ; but he is in the hands of the 
law, and must abide the result: I cannot interpose. Do you 
know whether his parents are living.'*" 

" I think I have heard him say that he has very lately 
received news of the death of his mother : I believe his 
father is living." 

" I pity him from my soul." He mused a few moments, 
and then added, " But, West, go to Mr. Trumbull immedi- 
ately, and pledge to him my royal promise, that, in the worst 
possible event of the law, his life shall be safe." 

This message was immediately delivered, and received, as it 
deserved to be, with profound gratitude. I had now nothing 
more to apprehend than a tedious confinement ; and that might 
be softened by books and my pencil. I therefore begged Mr. 
West to permit me to have his beautiful little Correggio, and 
my tools. I proceeded with the copy, which was finished in 
prison during the winter of 1780-81, and is now deposited in 
the Gallery at New Haven. 

But, with every alleviation, confinement within four walls 
soon became irksome, and, with the advice of some friends 
(for my friends were permitted freely to visit me), I resolved 
to endeavor to force myself to a legal trial ; for the tide of 
military affairs, as well as of public opinion, began to run in 
favor of America ; and it was believed that no jury could be 
found who would enforce the penalty of the law. I therefore 
consulted an eminent lawyer, — the lioi>- John Lee, — and 



72 NEIV ENGLAND. 

received for answer, that the suspension of the act of habeas 
corptcs rendered such a measure impossible, and that my 
only hope was by impressing the minds of ministers with a 
sense of the uselessness of severe measures, in the actual 
state of the dispute, and thus inducing them to release me, as 
a step towards conciliation. 

In the course of the winter, I received kind visits from 
many distinguished men, among whom were John Lee, lately 
attorney-general, Charles J. Fox, and others. Mr. Fox was 
ver)' kind. He recommended a direct application to ministers, 
on the ground of impolicy, and added, '• I would undertake it 
myself, if I thought I could have any influence with them ; 
but such is the hostility between us, that we are not even on 
speaking terms. Mr. Burke has not lost all influence ; has 
not thrown away the scabbard, as I have. I will converse 
with him, and desire him to visit you." A few days after, Mr. 
Burke came to see me, and readily and kindly undertook the 
negotiation, which, after some unavoidable delay, ended in an 
order of the king in council to admit me to bail, with the con- 
dition that I should leave the kingdom in thirty days, and not 
return until after peace should be restored. Mr. West and 
Mr. Copley became my sureties, and I was liberated in the 
beginning of June, after a close confinement of seven months. 

Connecticut and Athens. 

[After his release, Trumbull went to the Continent, where 
he received despatches from his father, authorizing him to 
negotiate a loan in Holland for the State of Connecticut. On 
consulting Mr. Adams, who was engaged in the same busi- 
ness for the United States, and met with apparently insurmount- 
able difficulties, he abandoned the attempt, and returned to 
America.] 

I returned to Lebanon as soon as possible, and occupied 
myself with closing all accounts respecting my unfortunate 
mercantile experiment. My reflections were painful : I had 
thrown away two of the most precious years of life, had en- 
countered many dapgers, and suffered many inconveniences, 



CONNECTICUT AND A THENS. 73 

to no purpose. I was seized with a serious illness, which 
confined me to my bed, and endangered my life ; and it was 
autumn before I had recovered strength sufficient to attempt 
any occupation. 

My brother was engaged in a contract for the supply of the 
army. It was necessary to have a perfectly confidential agent 
residing with the army to superintend the faithful execution 
of the contract there. He offered me this situation ; and, as 
soon as I had recovered sufficient strength, I commenced my 
duty at the quarters of the army, on the North River, present- 
ed myself to my early master and friend, Gen. Washington, 
and was very kindly received. I remained at New Windsor 
during the winter of 1782 and 1783. Here we received the news 
of the signing of the prehminary articles of peace ; and an end 
was thus put to all further desultory pursuits. It was now 
necessary to determine upon a future occupation for life. 
The gentlemen with whom I was connected in the military 
contract proposed a commercial establishment, in which they 
would furnish funds, information, and advice, while I should 
execute the business, and divide with them the profits. The 
proposal was fascinating; but I reflected, that, if I entered 
upon regular commerce, I must come in competition with 
men who had been educated in the counting-house, and my 
ignorance might often leave me at their mercy ; and therefore 
I declined this offer. My father again urged the law, as the 
profession which in a repubhc leads to all emolument and dis- 
tinction, and for which my early education had well prepared 
me. My reply was, that, so far as I understood the question, 
law was rendered necessary by the vices of mankind ; that I 
had already seen too much of them, willingly to devote my 
life to a profession which would keep me perpetually involved, 
either in the defence of innocence against fraud and injustice, 
or (what was much more revolting to an ingenuous mind) to 
the protection of guilt against just and merited punishment. 
In short, I pined for the arts, again entered into an elaborate 
defence of my predilection, and again dwelt upon the honors 
paid to artists in the glorious days of Greece and Athens. 



74 NEW ENGLAND. 

My father listened patiently ; and, when I had finished, he com- 
plimented me upon the able manner in which I had defended 
what to him still appeared to be a bad cause. " I had con- 
firmed his opinion," he said, '*• that, with proper study, I should 
make a respectable lawyer. But," added he, " you must give 
me leave to say, that you appear to have overlooked, or for- 
gotten, one very important point in your case." — " Pray, sir," 
I rejoined, " what was that } " — " You appear to forget, sir, 
that Connectiait is 7iot Athens ; " and, with this pithy remark, 
he bowed and withdrew, and never more opened his lips upon 
the subject. How often have those few impressive words 
recurred to my memory! — "Connecticut is not Athens." 
The decision was made in favor of the arts. I closed all 
other business, and in December, 1783, embarked at Ports- 



A Lost Opportunity. 

I arrived in London in January, 1784, went immediately to 
Mr. West, and was received most cordially. 

My father had wTitten a letter to Mr. Edmund Burke, 
expressive of his gratitude for the kindness shown to his son 
when in prison, and commending me to his future protection. 
This letter I early presented, and was most kindly received. 
" Your father speaks of painting as being the great object of 
your pursuit : do you not intend to study architecture also ? " 
asked Mr. Burke. I replied, " that I thought I knew enough 
already, for my purpose in backgrounds, &c." — "I do not 
mean that, Mr. Trumbull. You are aware that architecture is 
the eldest sister ; that painting and sculpture are the youngest, 
and subservient to her ; you must also be aware that you 
belong to a young nation, which will soon want public build- 
ings : these must be erected before the decorations of paint- 
ing and sculpture will be required. I would, therefore, strongly 
advise you to study architecture thoroughly and scientifically 
in order to qualify yourself to superintend the erection of 
these national buildings, — decorate them also, if you will." 

This was wise and kind advice ; and I had afterwards suffi- 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS AND BENJ. WEST. 75 

cient evidence of my own want of wisdom in neglecting to 
follow it. A few of the hours of evenings which with all my 
fancied industry were trifled away would have sufficed for 
the acquisition of thorough architectural knowledge. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds and Benjamin West. 

Mr. Burke was the personal friend of Sir Joshua Reynolds ; 
and when I mentioned my predilection for history, and spoke 
of my intention to study especially under Mr. West, he did 
not appear to regard this preference with cordiality. I went 
on, however, painting by day at Mr. West's house, and in the 
evening drawing at the academy. Here I frequently sat by 
the side of Lawrence (afterwards Sir Thomas), so celebrated 
for his exquisite portraits. His manner there was to finish 
elaborately such parts of the model before him as struck his 
taste : of course, he rarely had time to work up the other parts 
of his figure with equal care ; and the whole was not unfre- 
quently out of drawing. The consequence of this bad habit 
of study may often be traced in his paintings. 

In the early part of my studies, in 1784, my friend Col. 
Wadsworth, and his son, were in London ; and I was desired 
to paint their portraits. I attempted it, — the father dressed 
in gray cloth, sitting, the son leaning on his shoulder, — small, 
whole-length figures. This picture still exists, in possession 
of Mrs. Terry of Hartford, the daughter of the former, and 
sister of the latter, of these two gentlemen, and is, in truth, 
bad enough. I had the vanity, however, to take it to show to 
Sir Joshua Reynolds. The moment he saw it, he said in a 
quick, sharp tone, " That coat is bad, sir, very bad. It is not 
cloth : it is tin, bent tin." The criticism was but too true, 
but its severity wounded my pride ; and I answered (taking up 
the picture), " I did not bring this thing to you. Sir Joshua, 
merely to be told that it is bad : I was conscious of that. And 
how could it be otherwise, considering the short time I have 
studied ? I had a hope, sir, that you would kindly have pointed 
out to me how to correct my errors." I bowed, and withdrew, 
and was cautious not again to expose my imperfect works to 
the criticism of Sir Joshua. 



^6 NEW ENGLAND. 

In the summer of 1785, I finished for Mr. West a copy of 
his glorious picture of the battle of La Hogue, on cloth, a few 
inches larger on every side than the original. This work was 
of inestimable importance to me ; and soon after, I composed 
and painted the picture of " Priam returning to his Family 
with the Dead Body of Hector," which is now in the Athenceum 
at Boston. 

In the autumn of the same year, I was invited by the Rev. 
Mr. Preston of Chevening, in Kent, to pass a week at his 
house, in company with Mr. West's eldest son. The library 
of Mr. Preston (which, at his death, he bequeathed to the 
Library of Philadelphia, where it now is) was rich in works 
relating to the arts ; and among others were the Trajan, Anto- 
nine, and other columns, the triumphal arches, bass-reliefs, 
&c., of Rome : these I studied attentively. Here, also, I made 
my first attempt at the composition of a military scene, taken 
from the war of the Revolution : it was a small sketch in 
Indian ink, on paper, of the death of Gen. Frazer at Behmus's 
Heights. And here I was introduced to the learned and 
excellent Earl and Countess of Stanhope. 

Upon my return to town, I resumed my studies with Mr. 
West and at the academy with ardor, and now began to 
meditate seriously the subjects of national history, of events 
of the Revolution, which have since been the great objects of 
my professional life. The death of Gen. Warren at the battle 
of Bunker Hill, and of Gen. Montgomery in the attack on 
Quebec, were first decided upon. These were the earliest 
important events in point of time ; and I not only regarded 
them as highly interesting passages of history, but felt, that, 
in painting them, I should be paying a just tribute of gratitude 
to the memory of eminent men who had given their lives for 
their country. These pictures (which are now in the Gallery 
at New Haven) were both painted in the room of Mr. West ; 
and, when the Bunker Hill was pretty far advanced, he said 
to me one day, " Trumbull, will you dine with me to-morrow ? 
I have invited some of our brother-artists, and wish 3'ou to 
be of the party." He received his friends in his painting- 



PICTURES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 'J'J 

room, where, by his direction, my picture was standing in an 
advantageous hght. Among the guests was Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds ; and, when he entered the room, he immediately ran up 
to my picture. " Why, West, what have you got here ? This 
is better colored than your works are generally." — "Sir 
Joshua " (was the reply), "you mistake. That is not mine: 
it is the work of this young gentleman, Mr. Trumbull. Permit 
me to introduce him to you." Sir Joshua was at least as much 
disconcerted as I had been by the bent tin. The account 
between us was fairly balanced. 

Pictures of the American Revolution. 

Mr. West witnessed the progress of these two pictures with 
great interest, and strongly encouraged me to persevere in the 
work of the history of the American Revolution, which I had 
thus commenced, and recommended to me that I should have 
the series engraved, by which means, not only would the 
knowledge of them, and of my talent, be more widely diffused, 
but also, in small sums from many purchasers, I should prob- 
ably receive a more adequate compensation for my labor than 
I could hope from the mere sale of the paintings, even at 
munificent prices. He proceeded to detail to me a history of 
his own method, and of his success in the publication of the 
engravings from his history of England, and explained to me, 
with the kindness of a father, all the intricacies of such an 
enterprise, — the choice of engravers, printers, publisher, &c. 

My only objection to this was, that the necessary superin- 
tendence would require more time and attention than I was 
willing to spare from the direct pursuit of my studies. I 
was conscious of having entered upon the profession at too 
late an hour, and feared to divert my mind from the unre- 
mitted course of study which I had so successfully pursued 
during the last two or three years. This objection was re- 
moved. Mr. West was well acquainted with an Italian artist, 
by the name of Antonio di Poggi, of very superior talents 
as a draughtsman, who had recently commenced the busi- 
ness of pubHshing. He suggested that Mr. Poggi might be 



78 NEW ENGLAND. 

advantageously taken into connection as the publisher, for 
which his great precision and elegance of drawing peculiarly 
qualified him. After some reflection, I determined to pursue 
the course thus pointed out to me. I entered into an agree- 
ment with Mr. Poggi for the publication of the two paintings 
now in hand ; and, while he sought for engravers, I continued 
to work upon the pictures. He soon found that there was 
not, at the time, a single engraver in England, disengaged, of 
sufficient talent to be safely employed in a work of the first- 
class, as we meant this to be : he therefore soon went to the 
Continent in pursuit of this, in connection with his other 
affairs. When the two pictures were finished, I took them 
with me, and joined him at Paris, with the great object of 
finding proper engravers. 

On this occasion Mr. Adams (minister of the United States 
in London) and other friends gave me letters of introduction 
to a number of important persons in Paris, from which I 
entertained hopes of a pleasant reception ; and Mr. Vander 
Gucht, a dealer in pictures in London, requested me to de- 
liver a letter to Mr. Le Brim, his correspondent in Paris. 
From this I expected nothing, as I had little acquaintance 
with Mr. V^ander Gucht, and supposed it merely a letter of 
business. It happened, however, that, when I reached Paris, 
every person to whom the letters of Mr. Adams and other 
friends were addressed, was in the country, and the letters, of 
course, useless ; while that to Mr. Le Brun, aided by the sight 
of my pictures, made me known to all the principal artists 
and connoisseurs in Paris. 

A Banker for the Artist. 

In May, 1777, immediately after my resignation, my military 
accounts were audited and settled at Albany, by the proper 
accounting officer, John Carter. This gentleman, who soon 
after married Angelica, the eldest daughter of Gen. Schuyler, 
resided, in 177S and 1779, in Boston, where I was studying; 
and the acquaintance which commenced at Albany was con- 
tinued. On my return from Europe, in 17S2, he was one of 



A BANKER FOR THE ARTIST. yC) 

the contractors for the supply of the American and French 
armies, in company with my friend Col. Wadsworth of Hart- 
ford. After the preliminaries of peace were signed, these 
gentlemen proposed the commercial connection, which I de- 
clined ; and, when I resolved to return to London for the 
purpose of studying the arts, I purchased from Mr. Carter a 
bill of exchange upon a banking-house in London, with the 
full amount of all my disposable means, which were small 
enoudi to bee:in such a course with. 

In London, 1784, my acquaintance with this gentleman was 
renewed, under the name of John Barker Church (Carter had 
been but a no7n de gucrre\ where he lived in great elegance, a 
member of parliament, &c. ; and although I was now but a 
poor student of painting, and he rich, honored, and associated 
with the great, Mr. Church continued to treat me on the foot- 
ing of equality ; and I frequently dined at his table with dis- 
tinguished men, such as Sheridan, 5rc. 

In 1786 Mr. Church called upon me one morning very 
early, and said with a little hesitation, " I am glad to find you 
at home and alone, Trumbull. I wish to ask you a question, 
at which I hope you will not take offence." — " Certainly, my 
friend, you can say nothing at which I can be offended." — 
" I wish to know, then, how your money holds out." — " Almost 
exhausted." — "I should think so: I cannot comprehend 
how you have made it last so long. Now, do not regard this as 
an inquiry of silly curiosity. I hear very favorable accounts 
of your industry and probable success, and was afraid that 
the want of money might oblige you either to relax your 
studies, or to ask pecuniary favors from strangers. My real 
business, therefore, is to ask that you will consider me as 
your banker, and that whenever you may have occasion for 
fifty, one hundred, or five hundred pounds, you will go to no 
one else, but apply to me ; and you shall always have it, on 
your personal security. I shall ask no guaranty or indorser; 
your simple receipt only, and five per cent interest." 

Instances of patronage like this to young men studying the 
fine arts, I presume are uncommon, and deserve to be grate- 



So NEW ENGLAND. 

fully remembered. By reference to my accounts at that time, 
I find that I availed myself of my friend's singular kindness 
to a considerable amount, and for several years ; and when 
the account was closed by my final payment of the balance 
due on the 5th of March, 1 797, I made an entry, of which the 
following is a copy : " The kindness of Mr. Church, in ad- 
vancing me at times when my prospects were not the most 
promising, and on my personal security merely, the sums 
which form the above account, will forever deserve my most 
sincere acknowledgments. Without such aid my subsequent 
success would have been checked by pecuniary embarrass- 
ments. J. T." 

Mrs. Wright. 

[We take our leave of Trumbull at this point, and, by a 
somewhat ungallant transition, pass to the reminiscences of 
Elkanah Watson respecting another branch of the fine arts. 
John Adams, in one of his letters, speaks of visiting in Phila- 
delphia the rare works of Mrs. Wells, sister of the famous 
Mrs. Wright. Mrs. Wright enjoyed a still greater renown in 
England for her figures, which seem to have been the prede- 
cessors of Madame Tussaud's wax-works. Elkanah Watson 
met the lady in Paris in 1781,] 

I came oddly in contact with the eccentric Mrs. Wright, on 
my arrival at Paris, from Nantes. Giving orders, from the 
balcony of the Hotel d'York, to my English servant, I was 
assailed by a powerful female voice crying out from the 
upper story, " Who are you ? an American I hope ! " — " Yes, 
madam," I replied. "And who are you.?" In two minutes, 
she came blustering down stairs, with the familiarity of an old 
acquaintance. We soon were on the most excellent terms. I 
discovered that she was in the habit of daily intercourse with 
Franklin, and was visited by all the respectable Americans in 
Paris. She was a native of New Jersey, and by profession a 
moulder of wax figures. The wild flights of her powerful mind 
stamped originality on all her acts and language. She was a 
tall and athletic figure, and walked with a firm, bold step, as 



MRS. WRIGHT, 8 1 

erect as an Indian. Her complexion was somewhat sallow ; 
her cheek-bones, high ; her face, furrowed ; and her olive eyes 
keen, piercing, and expressive. Her sharp glance was appall- 
ing : it had almost the wildness of a maniac's. The vigor 
and originality of her conversation corresponded with her 
manners and appearance. She would utter language, in her 
incessant volubility, as if unconscious to whom directed, that 
would put her hearers to the blush. She apparently pos- 
sessed the utmost simplicity of heart and character. 

With a head of wax upon her lap, she would mould the 
most accurate likenesses by the mere force of a retentive 
recollection of the traits and lines of the countenance : she 
would form her hkenesses by manipulating the wax with her 
thumb and finger. Whilst thus engaged, her strong mind 
poured forth an uninterrupted torrent of wild thought, and 
anecdotes and reminiscences of men and events. She went 
to London about the year 1767, near the period of Franklin's 
appearance there as the agent of Pennsylvania. The pecu- 
liarity of her character, and the excellence of her wax figures, 
made her rooms in Pall Mall a fashionable lounging-place for 
the nobility and distinguished men of England. Here her 
deep penetration and sagacity, cloaked by her apparent sim- 
plicity of purpose, enabled her to gather many facts and 
secrets important to "dear America," her uniform expres- 
sion in reference to her native land, which she dearly loved. 

She was a genuine Republican, and ardent Whig. The 
king and queen often visited her rooms : they would induce 
her to work upon her heads, regardless of their presence. 
She would often, as if forgetting herself, address them as 
George and Charlotte. This fact she often mentioned to me 
herself. Whilst in England she communicated much impor- 
tant information to Franklin, and remained in London until 
'75 or '76, engaged in that kind of intercourse with him and 
the American Government by which she was placed in posi- 
tions of extreme hazard. 

I saw her frequently in Paris in '81, and in various parts 
of England from '82 to '84. Her letters followed me in my 
6 



82 NEW ENGLAND. 

travels through Europe. I had assisted her at Paris, had 
extended aid to her son at Nantes, and had given him a free 
passage in one of our ships to America. Her gratitude was 
unbounded. This son was a painter and artist of some emi- 
nence, and in 1784 took a model of Washington's head in 
plaster. I heard from Washington himself an amusing anec- 
dote connected with this bust. 

In January, 1785, I enjoyed the inestimable privilege of a 
visit under his roof, in the absence of all visitors. Among 
the many interesting subjects which engaged our conversa- 
tion in a long winter evening (the most valuable of my life), 
in which his dignified lady and Miss Custis united, he amused 
us with relating the incident of the taking of this model. 
"Wright came to Mount Vernon," the general remarked, 
" with the singular request, that I should permit him to take 
a model of my face in plastcr-of-Paris, to which I consented 
with some reluctance. He oiled my features over ; and pla- 
cing me flat upon my back, upon a cot, proceeded to daub my 
face with the plaster. Whilst in this ludicrous attitude, Mrs. 
Washington entered the room, and, seeing my face thus over- 
spread with the plaster, involuntarily exclaimed. Her cry 
excited in me a disposition to smile, which gave my mouth 
a slight twist, or compression of the lips, that is now observa- 
ble in the busts which Wright afterward made." These are 
nearly the words of Washington. 

Some time after my acquaintance with Mrs. Wright com- 
menced, she informed me that an eminent female chemist of 
Paris had written her a note, saying that she would make her 
a visit at twelve o'clock the next day, and announced, also, 
that she could not speak English. Mrs W^right desired me 
to act as interpreter. At the appointed hour, the thundering 
of a carriage in the courtyard announced the arrival of the 
French lady. She entered with much grace, in which Mrs. 
Wright was no match for her. She was old, with a sharp 
nose, and with broad patches of vermilion spread over the deep 
furrows of her cheeks. I was placed in a chair between the 
two originals. Their tongues flew with velocity, — the one in 



MRS. WRIGHT AND FRANKLIN'S HEAD. 83 

English, and the other in French, and neither understanding 
a word the other uttered. I saw no possibihty of interpreting 
two such volleys of words, and at length abruptly commanded 
silence for a moment. I asked each, " Do you understand ? " 
" Not a word," said Mrs. Wright. " N'importe," replied the 
chemist, bounding from her chair, in the midst of the floor ; 
and, dropping a low courtesy, she was off. " What an old 
painted fool!" said Mrs. Wright in anger. It was evident 
that this visit was not intended for an interchange of senti- 
ment, but a mere act of civility, a call. 

Mrs. Wright and Franklin's Head. 

I employed Mrs. Wright to make the head of Franklin, 
which was often the source of much amusement to me. 
After it was completed, we both were invited to dine with 
Franklin ; and I conveyed her to Passy in my carriage, she 
bearing the head upon her lap. No sooner in presence of 
the doctor than she had placed one head by the side of the 
other. " There," she exclaimed, '• are twin-brothers." The 
likeness was truly admirable ; and at the suggestion of Mrs. 
Wright, to give it more effect, Franklin sent me a suit of silk 
clothes which he wore in 1778. Many years aftenvard the 
head was broken in Albany ; and the clothes I presented to 
the Historical Society of Massachusetts. 

An adventure occurred to Mrs. Wright, in connection with 
this head, ludicrous in the highest degree ; but, although 
almost incredible, it is literally true. After the head had been 
modelled, she walked out to Passy, carrying it in a napkin, in 
order to compare it with the original. In returning in the 
evening, she was stopped at the barrier, to be searched for 
contraband goods ; but, as her mind was as free as her native 
American air, she knew no restraint, nor the reason why 
she was detained. She resisted the attempt to examine her 
bundle, and broke out in the rage of a fury. The officers were 
amazed, as no explanation, in the absence of an interpreter, 
could take place. She was compelled, however, to yield to 
power. The bundle was opened, and, to the astonishment 



84 NEW ENGLAND. 

of the oflScials, exhibited the head of a dead man, as appeared 
to them in the obscurity of the night. They closed the 
bundle without further examination, believing, as they after- 
ward assured me, that she was an escaped maniac, who had 
committed murder, and was about concealing the head of her 
victim. 

They were determined to convey her to the police-station, 
when she made them comprehend her entreaties to be taken 
to the Hotel d'York. I was in my room ; and hearing in the 
passage a great uproar, and Mrs. Wright's voice pitched upon 
a higher key than usual, I rushed out, and found her in a 
terrible rage, her fine eye flashing. I thrust myself between 
her and the officers, exclaiming, "Ah, mon Dieu ! qu'est ce 
qu'il y-a ? " An explanation ensued. All except Mrs. Wright 
were highly amused at the singularity and absurdity of the 
affair. 

The head and clothes I transmitted to Nantes ; and they 
were the instruments of many frolics not inappropriate to my 
youth ; but perhaps it is hardly safe to advert to them in my 
age. A few I will venture to relate. On my arrival at 
Nantes, I caused the head to be properly adjusted to the 
dress, which was arranged in natural shape and dimensions. 
I had the figure placed in the corner of a large room, near a 
closet, and behind a table. Before it, I laid an open atlas, the 
arm resting upon the table, and mathematical instruments 
strewn upon it. A handkerchief was thrown over the arm- 
stumps ; and wires were extended to the closet, by which 
means the body could be elevated or depressed, and placed in 
various positions. Thus arranged, some ladies and gentlemen 
were invited to pay their respects to Dr. Franklin by candle- 
light. For a moment they were completely deceived ; and all 
profoundly bowed and courtesied, which was reciprocated by 
the figure. Not a word being uttered, the trick was soon 
revealed. 

A report soon circulated, that Dr. Franklin was at Mons. 
Watson's. At eleven o'clock the next morning, the mayor 
of Nantes came, in full dress, to call on the renowned phi- 



MRS. WRIGHT AND FRANKLIN'S HEAD. 8$ 

losopher. Cossoul, my worthy partner, being acquainted with 
the mayor, favored the joke for a moment, after their mutual 
salutations. Others came in ; and all were disposed to gull 
their friends in the same manner. 

The most amusing of all the incidents connected with this 
head occurred in London, whither I sent it after the peace of 
'83, when I had established a bachelor's hall in that city. 
I placed the figure, in full dress, with the head leaning out of 
the window, apparently gazing up and down the square. 
Franklin had formerly been well known in that part of the 
city, and was at once recognized. Observing a collection of 
people gathering at another window, looking at him, I ordered 
him down. 

The morning papers announced the arrival of Dr. Frank- 
lin, at an American merchant's in Belleter Square ; and I 
found it necessary to contradict the report. In the interval, 
three Boston gentlemen, who were in the city, expressed a 
wish to pay their respects to the doctor. I desired them to 
call in the evening, and bring their letters of introduction, 
which they had informed me they bore, expecting to see him 
at Paris. I concerted measures with a friend to carry the 
harmless deception to the utmost extent on this occasion. 
Before entering, I apprised them that he was deeply engaged 
in examining maps and papers ; and I begged that they would 
not be disturbed at any apparent inattention. Thus prepared, 
I conducted them into a spacious room. Franklin was seated 
at the extremity, with his atlas, and my friend at the wires. I 
advanced in succession with each, half across the room, and 
introduced him by name. Franklin raised his head, bowed, 
and resumed his attention to the atlas. I then retired, and 
seated them at the farther side of the room. 

They spoke to me in whispers. " What a venerable 
figure ! " exclaims one. " Why don't he speak ? " says an- 
other. " He is doubtless in a revery," I remarked, " and has 
forgotten the presence of his company : his great age must 
be his apology. Get your letters, and go up again with me to 
him." When near the table, I said, " Mr. B ^ sir, from 



86 NEW ENGLAND. 

Boston." The head was raised. "A letter," says B , 

"from Dr. Cooper." I could go no further. The scene was 

too ludicrous. As B held out the letter, I struck the 

figure smartly, exclaiming, " Why don't you receive the letter 
like a gentleman .'' " They all were petrified with astonish- 
ment ; but B never forgave me the joke. 

An Evening with Franklin. 

[A veritable interview with Dr. Franklin is described by the 
same writer at a later date.] 

Soon after my return to Paris, I dined, and spent the 
evening, with the immortal Franklin. Arriving at an early 
hour, I discovered the philosopher in a distant room, reading, 
in the exact posture in which he is represented by an admira- 
ble engraving from his portrait ; his left arm resting upon the 
table, and his chin supported by the thumb of his right hand. 
His minghng in the most refined and exalted society of both 
hemispheres had communicated to his manners a blandness 
and urbanity, well sustained by his native grace and elegance 
of deportment. His venerable locks waving over his shoul- 
ders, and the dignity of his personal appearance, commanded 
reverence and respect ; and yet his manners were so pleasant 
and fascinating, that one felt at ease, and unrestrained, in his 
presence. He inquired whether I knew that he was a musi- 
cian ; and he conducted me across the room, to an instru- 
ment of his own invention, which he called the Armonica. 
The music was produced by a peculiar combination of hemi- 
spherical glasses. At my solicitation, he played upon it, and 
performed some Scotch pastorales with great effect. The 
exhibition was truly striking and interesting, — to contemplate 
an eminent statesman, in his seventy-sixth year, and the most 
distinguished philosopher of the age, performing a simple 
pastorale on an instrument of his own construction. The 
interest was not diminished by the fact that this philosopher, 
who was guiding the intellects of thousands, that this states- 
man, an object of veneration in the metropolis of Europe, 
and who was influencing the destiny of nations, had been an 
untutored printer's boy in America. 



AN EVENING WITH FRANKLIN. 8/ 

Our conversation during the evening was turned to the all- 
absorbing subject of the great combination of the French and 
American forces against Cornwallis. Our last information 
left the affairs in Virginia in a precarious and doubtful pos- 
ture. De Grasse had entered the Chesapeake ; Washington 
and Rochambeau had united their forces ; De Barras, with 
seven sail-of-the-line, had left Rhode Island to join De Grasse. 
The British fleet had sailed from New York, with ten thou- 
sand troops, to relieve Cornwallis ; and it was reported that 
a re-enforcement had departed from England for New York. 
Thus stood the general aspect of our intelligence at a crisis 
which seemed to involve the existence of a young empire. 
We weighed probabihties, balanced possible vicissitudes, dis- 
sected maps. We feared that the British fleet might inter- 
cept De Barras at the capes of Virginia, and thus retrieve its 
superiority over De Grasse, attack and overwhelm him, and, 
landing their army, defeat and break up the combinations 
of Washington. The philosophy and self-possession, even of 
Franklin, seemed almost to abandon him. The vibrations 
of hope and fear occupied his mind ; and still I could per- 
ceive in him a deep conviction of a successful issue to the 
operations of Washington. I left him at night, in the com- 
pany of Dr. Bancroft, an American residing in London, but 
an ardent Whig ; and I returned to Paris in deep despond- 
ency, sighing over the miseries of our bleeding country. 

At dawn the next morning, I was aroused by a thunder- 
ing rap at my door. It brought me a circular from Dr. 
Franklin, struck off by a machine somewhat similar to the 
copying-machines of the present day ; and with what un- 
speakable thankfulness and thrilling interest I read its con- 
tents ! It was as follows : — 

Copy of a note from Cojati ds Vergennes to Dr. Franklin, dated Versailles., 
ic)th November, 1781, 11 d clock at night. 

Sir, — I cannot better express my gratitude to you for the news you often 
communicate to me, than by informing you that the Due de Lausai arrived this 
evening with the agreeable news that the combined armies of France and America 
have forced Cornwallis to capitulate. The English garrison came out of Vorktown 



88 NEIV ENGLAND. 

the 19th of October, w-ith honors of war, and laid down their arms as prisoners. 
About six thousand troops, eighteen hundred sailors, twenty-two stand of colors, 
and one hundred and seventy pieces of cannon, — seventy-five of which are brass, 
— are the trophies which signalize this victory: besides, a ship of fifty guns >\'as 
burnt, also a frigate, and a great number of transports. 

I have theJionor, &c., 

Db Vergennes. 
To his Excellency, Dr. Frankum. 

The next day I waited on Dr. Franklin, together with many 
American and French gentlemen, to offer our mutual con- 
gratulations. He appeared in an ecstasy of joy, observing, 
" There is no parallel in history of two entire armies being 
captured from the same enemy in any one war." 

The delight and the rejoicings of all classes of the people 
were excessive. Paris was illuminated for three successive 
nights. On my return to Nantes, along the banks of the 
Loire, I found all the cities in a blaze of illumination, and 
Nantes in the midst of it on my arrival. 

An American's Moment of Triumph. 

Soon after my arrival in England, having won at the 
insurance-office one hundred guineas, on the event of Lord 
Howe's relie\ing Gibraltar, and dining the same day with 
Copley, the distinguished painter, who was a Bostonian by 
birth, I determined to devote the sum to a splendid portrait 
of myself. The painting was finished in most admirable 
style, except the background, which Copley and I designed 
to represent a ship, bearing to America the intelligence of the 
acknowledgment of Independence, with a sun just rising upon 
the stripes of the Union, streaming from her gaff. All ■was 
complete, save the flag, which Copley did not deem prudent to 
hoist under present circumstances, as his gallery is a constant 
resort of the royal family and the nobility. I dined ^^•ith the 
artist on the glorious 5th of December, 1782, after listening 
with him to the speech of the king, formally recognizing the 
LTnited States of America as in the rank of nations. Pre- 
\'ious to dining, and immediately after our return from the 
House of Lords, he invited me into his studio, and there 



AN AMERICAN'S MOMENT OF TRIUMPH. 89 

with a bold hand, a master's touch, and, I bcheve, an Ameri- 
can heart, attached to the ship the stars and stripes. This 
was, I imagine, the first American flag hoisted in Old Eng- 
land.^ 

At an early hour on the 5th of December, 1782, in con- 
formity with previous arrangements, I was conducted by the 
Earl of Ferrers to the very entrance of tlie House of Lords. 
At the door he whispered, " Get as near the throne as you 
can : fear nothing." I did so, and found myself exactly in 
front of it, elbow to elbow with the celebrated Admiral Lord 
Howe. The lords were promiscuously standing as I entered. 
It was a dark and foggy day ; and the windows being elevated, 
and constructed in the antiquated style, with leaden bars to 
contain the diamond-cut panes of glass, increased the gloom. 
The walls were hung with dark tapestry, representing the 
defeat of the Spanish Armada. I had the pleasure of rec- 
ognizing in the crowd of spectators Copley, and West the 
painter, with some American ladies. I saw, also, some de- 
jected American Royalists in the group. 

After waiting nearly two hours, the approach of the king 
was announced by a tremendous roar of artillery. He entered 
by a small door on the left of the throne, and immediately 
seated himself upon the chair of state, in a graceful attitude, 
with his right foot resting upon a stool. He was clothed in 
royal robes. Apparently agitated, he drew from his pocket 
the scroll containing his speech. The commons were sum- 

* " I brought this splendid painting with me to America, and it is still in my pos- 
session. It is pronounced by artists second to no painting in America, and has, 
at their earnest request, been deposited in academies and schools of painting as a 
study for young artists. Copley assured me that it would not, in his own language, 
' ripen in forty years ; ' and now, after an interval of more than half a century, 
its colors appear clearer and more brilliant than on the day they left the paintei^s 
pallet (1S21). This magnificent painting, equal, probably, to any in America in 
style and execution, becoming by age more brilliant in its coloring, and mellowed 
and ripened by time, is now at the mansion of Charles M. Watson, Port Kent, 
Essex County, N.Y." — IVimlmv C. li^'ntson. Mr. Atrustus Thorndike Perkins, in 
his recent " Sketch of the Life and List of some of the Works of John Singleton 
Copley" (1873), states that the picture is now in the possession of Mrs. Thompson 
of Philadelphia. 



90 NEW ENGLAND. 

moned ; and, after the bustle of their entrance had subsided, 
he proceeded to read his speech. I was near the king, and 
watched with intense interest every tone of his voice, and 
expression of his countenance. It was to me a moment of 
thrilling and dignified exultation. After some general and 
usual remarks, he continued, — 

" I lost no time in giving the necessary orders to prohibit 
the further prosecution of offensive war upon the continent 
of North America. Adopting, as my inclination will always 
lead me to do, with decision and effect whatever I collect to 
be the sense of my parliament and my people, I have pointed 
all my views and measures in Europe, as in North America, 
to an entire and cordial reconciliation with the colonies. Find- 
ing it indispensable to the attainment of this object, I did 
not hesitate to go to the full length of the powers vested in 
me, and offer to declare them " — Here he paused, and was in 
evident agitation, either embarrassed in reading his speech 
by the darkness of the room, or affected by a very natural 
emotion. In a moment he resumed, " and offer to declare 
them free and independoit States. In thus admitting their 
separation from the crown of these kingdoms, I have sacri- 
ficed every consideration of my own to the wishes and opin- 
ions of my people. I make it my humble and ardent prayer 
to Almighty God, that Great Britain may not feel the evils 
which might result from so great a dismemberment of the 
empire, and that America may be free from the calamities 
which have formerly proved in the mother-country how 
essential monarchy is to the enjoyment of constitutional lib- 
erty. Religion, language, interests, and affection may, and I 
hope will, yet prove a bond of permanent union between the 
two countries." 

It is remarked, that George III. is celebrated for reading 
his speeches in a distinct, free, and impressive manner. On 
this occasion he was evidently embarrassed. He hesitated, 
choked, and executed the painful duties of the occasion with 
an ill grace that does not belong to him. I cannot adequately 
portray my sensations in the progress of this address : every 



AN AMERICAN'S MOMENT OF TRIUMPH. 9 1 

artery beat high, and swelled with my proud American blood. 
It was impossible not to revert to the opposite shores of the 
Atlantic, and to review in my mind's eye the misery and woe 
I had myself witnessed in several stages of the contest, and 
the widespread desolation resulting from the stubbornness 
of this very king, now so prostrate, but who had turned a 
deaf ear to our humble and importunate petitions for relief. 
Yet I beheve that George III. acted under what he felt to be 
the high and solemn claims of constitutional duty. 

The great drama was now closed. The battle of Lexing- 
ton exhibited its first scene. The Declaration of Independ- 
ence was a lofty and glorious event in its progress ; and the 
ratification of our independence by the king consummated 
the spectacle in triumph and exultation. This successful 
issue of the American Revolution will, in all probability, 
influence eventually the destinies of the whole human race. 
Such had been the sentiment and language of men of the 
profoundest sagacity and prescience, during and anterior to 
the conflict, in all appeals to the people. In leaving the house, 
I jostled Copley and West, who, I thought, were enjoying 
the rich political repast of the day, and noticing the anguish 
and despair depicted on the long visages of our American 
Tories. 

The ensuing afternoon, having a card of admission from 
Alderman Wool, I attended in the gallery of the House of 
Commons. There was no elaborate debate, but much acri- 
mony evinced in the incidental discussions. Commodore 
Johnstone assailed Lord Howe's late expedition to Gibraltar, 
because he had not gained a decisive victory, alleging, that, 
with proper effort, he might have done so ; when Mr. Town- 
shend defended him with zeal and spirit. Capt, Luttrell, a 
naval officer, then attacked Fox with much severity, accusing 
him of treating the navy, in some of his speeches, with disre- 
spect. Fox replied with his wonted keen and sarcastic style, 
in a sliort and rapid speech. Mr. Burke at length arose, and 
attacked the king's address of the day before in a vein of 
satire and ridicule. He said, " It was a farrago of nonsense 



92 NEW ENGLAND. 

and hypocrisy." Young Pitt, the newly created chancellor of 
the exchequer, replied to Mr. Burke, and handled him with dig- 
nified severity, imputing to him buffoonery and levity. Gen. 
Conway said, " The recognition of American Independence 
was explicit and unconditional." 

New-England Sea coast Life. 

[A glimpse of New England under peculiar conditions is 
afforded by the sketches of Hector St. John Crevecoeur in his 
" Letters from an American Farmer." He visited the islands 
of Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard shortly before the war, 
and was captivated by the simplicity and sturdiness of life 
there. He gives detailed accounts of the industry of the 
inhabitants ; and his pictures of the bustUng life upon the 
islands at that time contrast strangely with the quiet and 
sleepiness of the same places to-day. It is apparent that he 
regarded the life there as in a peculiar sense characteristic of 
the new American nation that was forming. We give some 
passages from his descriptions of the islands.] 

The Beginning of the Whale-Fishery. 

The first proprietors of this island, or, rather, the first 
founders of this town, began their career of industry with a 
single whaleboat, with which they went to fish for cod. The 
small distance from their shores at which they caught it 
enabled them soon to increase their business ; and those early 
successes first led them to conceive that they might likewise 
catch the whales, which hitherto sported undisturbed on their 
banks. After many trials, and several miscarriages, they suc- 
ceeded ; thus they proceeded, step by step. The profits of one 
successful enterprise helped them to purchase and prepare 
better materials for a more extensive one : as these were at- 
tended with little costs, their profits grew greater. The south 
sides of the island, from east to west, were divided into four 
equal parts ; and each part was assigned to a company of six, 
which, though thus separated, still carried on their business in 
common. In the middle of this distance they erected a mast, 



THE BEGINNING OF THE WHALE-FISHERY. 93 

provided with a sufficient number of rounds ; and near it they 
built a temporary hut, where five of the associates lived ; 
whilst the sixth from his high station carefully looked toward 
the sea in order to observe the spouting of the whales. As 
soon as any were discovered, the sentinel descended, the 
whaleboat was launched, and the company went forth in 
quest of their game. It may appear strange to you, that so 
slender a vessel as an Ajnerican whaleboat^ containing six 
diminutive beings, should dare to pursue and to attack in its 
native element the largest and strongest fish that Nature has 
created. Yet by the exertions of an admirable dexterity, 
improved by a long practice, in which these people are be- 
come superior to any other whalemen, by knowing the temper 
of the whale after her first movement, and by many other 
useful observations, they seldom failed to harpoon it, and to 
bring the huge leviathan on the shores. Thus they went on, 
until the profits they made enabled them to purchase larger 
vessels, and to pursue them farther when the whales quitted 
their coasts. Those who failed in their enterprises returned to 
the cod-fisheries, which had been their first school, and their 
first resource : they even began to visit the banks of Cape 
Breton, the Isle of Sable, and all the other fishing-places, with 
which this coast of America abounds. By degrees they went 
a-whaling to Newfoundland, to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, to 
the Straits of Belleisle, the coast of Labrador, Davis's Straits, 
even to Cape Desolation, in 70° of latitude, where the Danes 
carry on some fisheries in spite of the perpetual severities of 
that inhospitable climate. In process of time, they visited the 
Western Islands, the latitude of 34°, famous for that fish, the 
Brazils, the coast of Guinea. Would you believe that they 
have already gone to the Falkland Islands, and that I have 
heard several of them talk of going to the South Sea ! Their 
confidence is so great, and their knowledge of this branch of 
business so superior to that of any other people, that they 
have acquired a monopoly of this commodity. 



94 NEW ENGLAXD. 

The Mode of Whale-Fishing. 

The vessels most proper for whale-fishing are brigs of 
about a hundred and fifty tons burthen, particularly when they 
are intended for distant latitudes. They always man them 
with thirteen hands, in order that they may row two whale- 
boats, the crews of which must necessarily consist of six, — 
four at the oars, one standing on the bows with the harpoon, 
and the other at the helm. It is also necessary that there 
should be two of these boats, that, if one should be destroyed 
in attacking the whale, the other, which is never engaged at 
the same time, may be ready to save the hands. Five of the 
thirteen are always Indians. The last of the complement 
remains on board to steer the vessel during the action. They 
have no wages. Each draws a certain established share in 
partnership with the proprietor of the vessel : by which econ- 
omy they are all proportionably concerned in the success of 
the enterprise, and all equally alert and vigilant. None of 
these whalemen ever exceed the age of forty : they look on 
those who are past that period not to be possessed of all that 
vigor and agility which so adventurous a business requires. 
Indeed, if you attentively consider the immense disproportion 
between the object assailed and the assailants, if you think 
on the diminutive size and weakness of their frail vehicle, if 
you recollect the treachery of the element on which this scene 
is transacted, the sudden and unforeseen accidents of winds, 
&c., you will readily acknowledge that it must require the 
most consummate exertion of all the strength, agility, and 
judgment of which the bodies and the minds of men are capa- 
ble, to undertake these adventurous encounters. 

As soon as they arrive in those latitudes where they expect 
to meet with whales, a man is sent up to the masthead. If he 
sees one, he immediately cries out, " Awaite pawaxa '' {Jiere 
is a icJiale). They all remain still and silent until he repeats 
" Pawaxa " {ii \uJiah-'), when, in less than six minutes, the two 
boats are launched, filled with ever\- implement necessary for 
the attack. Thevrow toward the wh.ile with astonishing: velo- 



THE MODE OF IVHALE-FISIIING. 95 

city; and, as the Indians early became their fellow-laborers in 
this new warfare, you can easily conceive how the Nattick ex- 
pressions became familiar on board the whaleboats. Formerly 
it often happened that whale-vessels were manned with none 
but Indians and the master: recollect, also, that the Nantucket 
people understand the Nattick, and that there are always five 
of these people on board. There are various ways of ap- 
proaching the whale, according to their peculiar species ; and 
his previous knowledge is of the utmost consequence. When 
these boats are arrived at a reasonable distance, one of them 
rests on its oars, and stands off, as a witness of the ap- 
proaching engagement : near the bows of the other, the har- 
pooner stands up ; and on him principally depends the success 
of the enterprise. He wears a jacket closely buttoned, and 
round his head a handkerchief tightly bound : in his hands 
he holds the dreadful weapon (made of the best steel, marked 
sometimes with the name of their town, and sometimes with 
that of their vessel), to the shaft of which the end of a cord 
of due strength, coiled up with the utmost care in the middle 
of the boat, is firmly tied : the other end is fastened to the 
bottom of the boat. Thus prepared, they row in profound 
silence, leaving the whole conduct of the enterprise to the 
harpooner and to the steersman, attentively following their 
directions. When the former judges himself to be near 
enough to the whale, that is, at the distance of about fifteen 
feet, he bids them stop : perhaps she has a calf, whose safety 
attracts all the attention of the dam, which is a favorable 
circumstance ; perhaps she is of a dangerous species, and it 
is safest to retire, though their ardor will seldom permit them ; 
perhaps she is asleep, in that case, he balances high the har- 
poon, trying in this important moment to collect all the energy 
of which he is capable. He launches it forth, she is struck : 
from her first movement they judge of her temper as well as of 
their future success. Sometimes, in the immediate impulse 
of rage, she will attack the boat, and demolish it with one 
stroke of her tail : in an instant the frail vehicle disappears, 
and the assailants are immersed in the dreadful element. 



96 X£Jr £XGLAXD. 

Were the whale armed with the jaws of the shark, and as 
voracious, they never would return home to amuse their lis- 
tening wives with the interesting tale of the adventure. At 
other times she will dive, and disappear from human sight: 
and ever}- thing must then give way to her velocity, or else all 
is lost. Sometimes she will swim away as if untouched, and 
draw the cord with such swiftness, that it will set the edge of 
the boat on fire by the friction. If she rises before she has 
run out the whole length, she is looked upon as a sure prey. 
The blood she has lost in her flight weakens her so much, 
that, if she sinks again, it is but for a short time. The boat 
follows her course with an almost equal speed. She soon re- 
appears ; tired at last with con\-ulsing the element, which she 
tinges with her blood, she dies, and floats on the surface. At 
other times it may happen that she is not dangerously 
wounded, though she carries the harpoon fast in her body ; 
when she will alternately dive and rise, and swim on witli un- 
abated vigor. She then soon reaches beyond the length of the 
cord, and carries the boat along with amazing velocity : this 
sudden impediment sometimes will retard her speed, at other 
times it only serves to rouse her anger, and to accelerate her 
progress. The harj>ooner, with the axe in his hands, stands 
ready. When he observes that the bows of the boat are greatly 
pulled down by the di\-ing whale, and that it begins to sink 
deep, and to take much water, he brings the axe almost in con- 
tact with the cord. He pauses, still flattering himself that she 
will relax ; but the moment grows critical ; unavoidable danger 
approaches. Sometimes men, more intent on gain than on the 
preser\-ation of their lives, will run great risks : and it is won- 
derful how far these people have carried their daring courage 
at this awful moment. But it is \-ain to hope : their lives 
must be saved. The cord is cut ; the boat rises again. If, 
after thus getting loose, she re-appears, they will attack, and 
wound her a second time. She soon dies ; and. when dead, 
she is towed alongside of their \-essel, where she is fastened. 

The next operation is to cut, with axes and spades, e^'er)' 
part of her body which jriclds oil. The kettles are set a-boil- 



PECULIAR CUSTOMS AT NANTUCKET. 97 

ing ; they fill their barrels as fast as it is made : but, as this 
operation is much slower than that of cutting up^ they fill the 
hold of their ship with those fragments, lest a storm should 
arise, and oblige them to abandon their prize. It is astonish- 
ing what a quantity of oil some of these tish will yield, and 
what profit it affords to those who are fortunate enough to 
overtake them. The River St. Lawrence whale, wdiich is the 
only one I am well acquainted with, is seventy-five feet long, 
sixteen deep, twelve in the length of its bone (which com- 
monly weighs three thousand pounds), twenty in the breadth 
of their tails, and produces a hundred and eighty barrels of 
oil : I once saw sixteen boiled out of the tongue only. After 
having once vanquished this leviathan, there are two enemies 
to be dreaded beside the wind, the first of which is the shark. 
That fierce, voracious fish, to which Nature has given such 
dreadful offensive weapons, often comes alongside, and, in 
spite of the people's endeavors, will share with them in their 
prey, at night particularly. They are very mischievous. But 
the second enemy is much more terrible and irresistible : it is 
the killer, sometimes called the thrasher, a species of whales 
about thirty feet long. They are possessed of such a degree 
of agility and fierceness as often to attack the largest sperma- 
ceti whales, and not seldom to rob the fishermen of their 
prey; nor are there any means of defence against so potent 
an adversary. When all their barrels are full (for every thing 
is done at sea), or when their limited time is expired, and their 
stores almost expended, they return home, freighted with their 
valuable cargo, unless they have put it on board a vessel 
for the European market. Such are, as briefly as I can relate 
them, the different branches of the economy practised by 
these bold navigators, and the method with which they go 
such distances from their island to catch this huge game. 

Peculiar Customs at Nantucket. 

The manners of the Friends are entirely founded on tliat 
simplicity which is their boast and their most distinguished 
characteristic ; and those manners have acquired the authority 
7 



98 A'EW ENGLAND. 

of laws. Here they are strongly attached to plainness of 
dress as well as to that of language, insomuch, that, though 
some part of it may be ungrammatical, yet, should any person 
who was born and brought up here attempt to speak more 
correctly, he would be looked upon as a fop or an innovator. 
On the other hand, should a stranger come here, and adopt 
their idiom in all its purity (as they deem it), this accomplish- 
ment would immediately procure him the most cordial recep- 
tion ; and they would cherish him like an ancient member of 
their society. So many impositions have they suffered on this 
account, that they begin now, indeed, to grow more cautious. 
They are so tenacious of their ancient habits of industry and 
frugality, that if any of them were to be seen with a long 
coat, made of English cloth, on any other than the First Day 
(Sunday), he would be greatly ridiculed and censured: he 
would be looked upon as a careless spendthrift, whom it would 
be unsafe to trust, and in vain to relieve. A few years ago, 
two single-horse chairs were imported from Boston, to the 
great offence of these prudent citizens. Nothing appeared to 
them more culpable than the use cf such gaudy painted vehi- 
cles, in contempt of the more useful and more simple single- 
horse carts of their fathers. This piece of extravagant and 
unknown luxury almost caused a schism, and set every tongue 
a-going. Some predicted the approaching ruin of those fami- 
lies that had imported them : others feared the dangers of 
example. Never since the foundation of the town had there 
happened any thing which so much alarmed this primitive 
community. One of the possessors of these profane chairs, 
filled v;ith repentance, v/isely sent it back to the continent : 
the ot'ier, more obstinate and perverse, in defiance of all re- 
monr,trances, persisted in the use cf his chair, until by degrees 
ilicy lcc:-me more reconciled to it ; though I observed that 
t!:e v.-enl'diicst and tlic most respectable people still go to 
meeting, or to their farms, in a single-horse cart with a decent 
awning fixed over it. Indeed, if you consider their sandy soil, 
and the badness of their roads, these appear to be the best 
contrived vehicles for this island. 



PECULIAR CUSTOMS AT XAXTUCKET. 99 

Idleness is the most heinois sin thit cm be committed 
in Nantucket An idle mzn vrouli soon be pointed out as an 
object of compassion : for idleness is considered as another 
word for want and hunger. This principle is so thoroughly 
well understood, and is become so universal, so prevailing a 
prejudice, that literally speaking, they are never idle. Even 
if they go to the market-place, which is (if I may be allowed 
the expression) the cofiee-house of the town, either to trans- 
act business, or to converse with their friends, they always 
have a piece of cedar in their hands : and, while they are talk- 
ing, they will, as it were instinctively, employ themselves in 
converting it into something usefuL — either in making bungs 
or spoyls ^ for their oil-casks, or other useful articles. I must 
confess that I have never seen more ingenuity in the use of 
the knife ; thus the most idle moments of their hves become 
usefully employed. In the many hours of leisure which their 
long cruises afford them, they cut and carve a \-ariety of boxes 
and pretty toys in wood, adapted to different uses, which they 
bring home as testimonies of remembrance to their wives 
and sweethearts. They have shown me a variety of little 
bowls and other implements, executed cooper-wise, with the 
greatest neatness and elegance. You will be pleased to re- 
member they are all brought up to the trade of coop)ers, be 
their future intentions or fortunes what they may : therefore 
almost every man in this island has always two knives in his 
pocket, one much larger than the other ; and though they 
hold even.- thing that is cz^^fashwn in the utmost contempt, 
yet they are as difficult to please, and as extravagant in the 
choice and price of their knives, as any young buck in Boston 
would be about his hat, buckles, or coat. As soon as a knife 
is injured, or superseded by a more convenient one, it is care- 
fully laid up in some comer of their desk- I once saw 

upwards of fifty thus preserved at Mr. 's, one of the 

worthiest men on this island : and among the whole, there 
was not one that perfectly resembled another. 

* Spojls are presamafaly wfaat moiiUy peofde caB ^ila, and the dirtionaries 



100 NEW ENGLAND. 



Nantucket Women. 



As the sea-excursions are often very long, their wives, in 
their absence, are necessarily obliged to transact business, to 
settle accounts, and, in short, to rule and provide for their 
families. These circumstances being often repeated, give 
women the abilities, as well as a taste, for that kind of super- 
intendency, to which, by their prudence and good manage- 
ment, they seem to be, in general, very equal. This employ- 
ment ripens their judgment, and justly entitles them to a 
rank superior to that of other wives ; and this is the principal 
reason why those of Nantucket, as well as those of Montreal, ^ 
are so fond of society, so affable, and so conversant with the 
affairs of the world. The men at their return, weary with the 
fatigues of the sea, full of confidence and love, cheerfully give 
their consent to every transaction that has happened during 
their absence ; and all is joy and peace. " Wife, thee hast done 
well," is the general approbation they receive for their appli- 
cation and industry. What would the men do without the 
agency of these faithful mates ? The absence of so many of 
them at particular seasons leaves the town quite desolate ; 
and this mournful situation disposes the women to go to each 
other's house much oftener than when their husbands are at 
home : hence the custom of incessant visiting has infected 
every one, and even those whose husbands do not go abroad. 
The house is always cleaned before they set out ; and with 
peculiar alacrity they pursue their intended visit, which con- 
sists of a social chat, a dish of tea, and a hearty supper. 
When the goodman of the house returns from his labor, he 
peaceably goes after his wife, and brings her home : mean- 
while the young fellows, equally vigilant, easily find out which 
is the most convenient house, and there they assemble with 
the girls of the neighborhood. Instead of cards, musical 
instruments, or songs, they relate stories of their whaling- 

1 " Most of the merchants and young men of Montreal spend the greatest part of 
their time in trading with the Indians, at an amazing distance from Canada ; and it 
often happens that they are three years together absent from home." — Crevecceur. 



NANTUCKET WOMEN. lOI 

voyages, their various sea-adventures, and talk of the different 
coasts and people they have visited. " The Island of Catha- 
rine in the Brazils," says one, " is a very droll island. It is in- 
habited by none but men : women are not permitted to come 
in sight of it : not a woman is there on the whole island. Who 
among us is not glad it is not so here ? The Nantucket girls 
and boys beat the world ! " At this innocent sally the titter 
goes round : they whisper to one another their spontaneous 
reflections. Puddings, pies, and custards never fail to be pro- 
duced on such occasions ; for I believe there never were any 
people in their circumstances who lived so well, even to super- 
abundance. As inebriation is unknown, and music, singing, 
and dancing are holden in equal detestation, they never could 
fill all the vacant hours of their lives without the repast of the 
table. Thus these young people sit and talk, and divert them- 
selves as well as they can. If any one has lately returned 
from a cruise, he is generally the speaker of the night. They 
often all laugh and talk together ; but they are happy, and 
would not exchange their pleasures for those of the most bril- 
liant assembhes in Europe. This lasts until the father and 
mother return, when all retire to their respective homes, the 
men reconducting the partners of their affections. 

Thus they spend many of the youthful evenings of their 
lives : no wonder, therefore, that they marry so early. But 
no sooner have they undergone this ceremony than they cease 
to appear so cheerful and gay : the new rank they hold in the 
society impresses them with more serious ideas than were 
entertained before. The title of master of a family necessa- 
rily requires more solid behavior and deportment. The new 
wife follows in the trammels of custom, which are as powerful 
as the tyranny of fashion : she gradually advises and directs : 
the new husband soon goes to sea : he leaves her to learn and 
exercise the new government in which she is entered. Those 
who stay at home are full as passive in general, at least with 
regard to the inferior departments of the family. But you 
must not imagine from this account that the Nantucket wives 
are turbulent, of high temper, and difiRcult to be ruled : on 



102 XEJr EXGLAXD. 

the contrary, the wives of Sherburn, in so doing, comply only 
with the prevailing custom of the island : the husbands, 
equally submissive to the ancient and respectable manners of 
their country, submit, without ever suspecting that there can 
be any impropriety. Were they to behave otherwise, they 
would be afraid of subverting the principles of their society 
by altering its ancient rules ; thus both parties are perfectly 
satistied, and all is peace and concord. The richest person 
now in the island owes all his present prosperity and suc- 
cess to the ingenuity of his wife (this is a known fact, which 
is well recorded) ; for, while he was performing his first 
cruises, she traded with pins and needles, and kept a school. 
Afterward she purchased more considerable articles, which 
she sold with so much judgment, that she laid the founda- 
tion of a system of business that she has ever since prose- 
cuted with equal dexterity and success. She wrote to Lon- 
don, formed connections, and, in short, became the only 
ostensible instrument of that house, both at home and abroad. 
Who is he in this country, and who is a citizen of Nantucket 
or Boston, \Yho does not know Aunt Kcsiah f I must tell 

you that she is the wife of Mr. C n, a \txy respectable 

man, who, well pleased with all her schemes, trusts to her 
judgment, and relies on her sagacity, with so entire a confi- 
dence as to be altogether passive to the concerns of his family. 
They have the best country-seat on the island, at Ouayes, 
where they live with hospitality, and in perfect union. He 
seems to be altogether the contemplative man. 

To this dexterity in managing the husband's business 
whilst he is absent, the Nantucket wives unite a great deal of 
industry. They spin, or cause to be spun in their houses, 
abundance of wool and flax, and would be forever disgraced, 
and looked upon as idlers, if all the family were not clad in 
good, neat, and sufficient homespun cloth. First Days are 
the only seasons when it is lawful for both sexes to exhibit 
some garments of English manufacture : even these are of 
the most moderate price, and of the gravest colors. There is 
no kind of difference in their dress : they are all clad alike, 
and resemble in that respect the members of one family. 



NEIV SETTLEMENTS. IO3 

A singular custom prevails here among the women, at 
which I was greatly surprised, and am really at a loss how to 
account for the original cause that' has introduced in this 
primitive society so remarkable a fashion, or, rather, so ex- 
traordinary a want. They have adopted, these many years, 
the Asiatic custom of taking a dose of opium every morning; 
and so deeply rooted is it, that they would be at loss how to 
live without this indulgence : they would rather be deprived 
of any necessary than forego their favorite luxury. This is 
much more prevailing among the women than the men, few 
of the latter having caught the contagion ; though the sheriff, 
whom I may call the first person in the island, who is an emi- 
nent physician beside, and whom I had the pleasure of being 
well acquainted with, has for many years submitted to this 
custom. He takes three gtains of it every day after break- 
fast, without the effects of which, he often told mc, he was 
not able to transact any business. 

It is hard to conceive how a people always happy and 
healthy, in consequence of the exercise and labor they under- 
go, never oppressed with the vapors of iJdeness, yet should 
want the fictitious effects of opium to preserve that cheerful 
ness to which their temj^erance, their climate, their happy 
situation, so justly entitle them. But where is the society 
perfectly free from error or folly 1 The least imperfect is 
undoubtedly that where the greatest good preponderates ; 
and, agreeable to this rule, I can truly say that I never was 
acquainted with a less vicious or more harmless one. 

New Settlements. 

[The attention of foreign travellers was naturally directed 
especially to those signs of the new country which were most 
removed from the Old World ways ; and the Marquis de Chas- 
tellux, in his travels, has remarked upon the custom in the 
wilds of Connecticut, which, since his time, has travelled very 
far and wide.] 

While I was meditating on the great process of Nature, 
which employs fifty thousand years in rendering the earth 



I04 NEW ENGLAND. 

habitable, a new spectacle, well calculated as a contrast to 
those which I had been contemplating, fixed my attention, and 
excited my curiosity : this was the work of a single man, 
who, in the space of a year, had cut down several acres of 
wood, and had built himself a house in the middle of a pretty 
extensive territory he had already cleared. I saw, for the 
first time, what I have since observed a hundred times ; for in 
fact, whatever mountains I have climbed, whatever forests I 
have traversed, whatever by-paths I have followed, I have 
never travelled three miles without meeting with a new settle- 
ment, either beginning to take form, or already in cultivation. 
The following is the manner of proceeding in these improve- 
ments, or new settlements : Any man who is able to procure 
a capital of five or six hundred livres of our money, or about 
twenty-five pounds sterling, and M*ho has strength and incli- 
nation to work, may go into the woods, and purchase a por- 
tion of one hundred and fifty or two hundred acres of land, 
which seldom costs him more than a dollar, or four shillings 
and sixpence, an acre, a small part of which only he pays in 
ready money. There he conducts a cow, some pigs or a 
full sow, and two indifferent horses, which do not cost him 
more than four guineas each. To these precautions he 
adds that of having a provision of flour and cider. Provided 
with this first capital, he begins by felling all the smaller 
trees, and some strong branches of the large ones : these 
he makes use of as fences to the first field he wishes to 
clear. He next boldly attacks those immense oaks or pines, 
which one would take for the ancient lords of the territory 
he is usurping : he strips them of their bark, or lays them 
open all round with his axe. These trees, mortally wounded, 
are the next spring robbed of their honors : their leaves no 
longer spring, their branches fall, and their trunk becomes a 
hideous skeleton. This trunk still seems to brave the efforts 
of the new colonist ; but, where there are the smallest chinks 
or crevices, it is surrounded by fire, and the flames consume 
what the iron was unable to destroy. But it is enough for 
the small trees to be felled, and the <rreat ones to lose their 



CHARACTERISTICS OF NEW ENGLAND, IO5 

sap. This object completed, the ground is cleared. The air 
and the sun begin to operate upon that earth which is wholly 
formed of rotten vegetables, and teems with the latent princi- 
ples of production. The grass grows rapidly. There is 
pasturage for the cattle the very first year ; after which they 
are left to increase, or fresh ones are bought, and they are 
employed in tiUing a piece of ground which yields the enor- 
mous increase of twenty or thirty fold. The next year the 
same course is repeated, when, at the end of two years, the 
planter has wherewithal to subsist, and even to send some 
articles to market. At the end of four or five years, he com- 
pletes the payment of his land, and finds himself a comforta- 
ble planter. Then his dwelhng — which at first was no better 
than a large hut formed by a square of the trunks of trees, 
placed one upon another, with the intervals filled by mud — 
changes into a handsome wooden house, where he contrives 
more convenient, and certainly much cleaner, apartments than 
those in the greatest part of our small towns. This is the 
work of three weeks or a month ; his first habitation, that of 
eight and forty hours. I shall be asked, perhaps, how one 
man or one family can be so quickly lodged. I answer, that 
in America a man is never alone, never an isolated being. 
The neighbors, for they are everywhere to be found, make it 
a point of hospitality to aid the new farmer. A cask of cider, 
drank in common, and with gayety, or a gallon of rum, are the 
only recompense for these services. 

Characteristics of the New-England Colonies. 

[In Gen. Riedesel's Memoirs, there is a brief survey of the 
several parts of New England visited by him, which permits 
us to see at a glance how the colonies at that day impressed 
an intelligent visitor as regards their internal character.] 

In travelling through the different provinces of North 
America, one cannot help noticing the difference which exists 
between them. One sees in a moment the genius of the 
inhabitants in their mode of living and culture. Thus, in the 
Province of Massachusetts Bay, the inclination of the people 



I06 A'£ir ENGLAXD. 

is for commerce, navigation, and the military art. The nume- 
rous Europeans who daily visit the harbor of Boston for the 
purpose of trading have introduced, besides the new fashions, 
and extravagance in dress, a sort of luxurious and idle life. 
Consequently, agriculture, as a general thing, is poorly 
attended to. The greater portion, also, of the inhabitants in 
the rural districts, either carry on a small store, or keep tav- 
erns, whereby they make a livelihood without much trouble. 
It is only at the new country-seats, built by a few wealthy 
Englishmen about thirty years ago, that agriculture and horti- 
culture is properly attended to. The native ^ gets along with 
Indian corn, cabbage, potatoes, and fruit, all of which the rich 
soil produces without much trouble on his part. It would, 
therefore, not be difficult for the inhabitants to raise much 
cattle ; but, as it is, they get along with salt pork, the animals 
from which this is made growing up at large in the woods. 
JNIany horses are raised, the breed of which could be greatly 
improved. The men and women are generally well formed 
and of good growth ; but the beauty of the latter is of short 
duration. They grow old very early, and become homely. 
The population is large ; but not many old people are to be 
seen. Most of the males have a strong passion for strong 
drinks, especially rum and other alcoholic beverages. The 
females of all classes are well educated, and can all write. All 
are fond of dress, and are dressed up every day, even the 
women of the lower classes. They ride very well on horse- 
back, love music and dancing, but hardly ever work. The 
man has to do the housework, and wait upon his lady. The 
women love to domineer ; and the spirit of rebellion is more 
deeply rooted in their hearts than in those of the men. 
Besides the taste for commerce, the New-Englander has con- 
siderable talent for the military art. Industry they have little 
to do with, although a few good mechanics are found among 
them, especially hatters, tanners, saddlers, &c. The great 
fault with them is, that he who has saved a little by his trade 

* I.e , a n.ilive-born American. 



A NEW-ENGLAND BOYHOOD. lO/ 

starts either a small store, or seeks a position of military 
honor. In their own houses they are cleanly. 

" The inhabitants of the Province of Connecticut are much 
more industrious and diligent. The women dress more mod- 
estly, and are good housekeepers. Agriculture flourishes ; and 
the breeding of cattle is a source to them of great wealth. 
The manufacture of linen and woollen goods is as yet in its 
infancy. The weaving-loom is the pastime of the women, 
even among those who consider themselves of rank ; and the 
man of the house considers it an honor to wear cloth that has 
been made on his farm. Connecticut furnishes cattle and 
corn to the American army. The spirit of the inhabitants is 
less military than that of Massachusetts Bay ; but, the theatre 
of war being near their lines, they are carried away, notwith- 
standing they love peace and labor rather than war. Many 
are loyal, and are therefore exposed to the persecutions of the 
others." 

A New-England Boyhood. 

[After all, the interest in the beginning of our history 
attaches especially to those scenes and incidents which indi- 
cate the first shadowing-forth of personal traits and local ten- 
dencies. In closing these sketches of New-England manners 
and men, a few passages may well be taken from the personal 
memoirs of one who afterward grew naturally into the position 
of a journalist, and one of the first who secured prominence 
in his vocation, — the late Joseph Tinker Buckingham. The 
hard lines of his childish life, and his gradual emergence into 
a condition of independence in a literary career, are told by 
him with much pathos and life ; but we have only to do with 
the early years before the close of the last century.] 

I was born on the twenty-first day of December, 1779, and 
was the tenth in numerical order in a family of eight sons and 
two daughters. One of the sons, and a daughter born two 
years after me, died in infancy. By request of a relative and 
intimate friend of my mother's, I was baptized by the name of 
Joseph Buckingham.^ 

* By an act of the legislature of Massachusetts, June, 1804, he was authorized 
to take the surname of Buckingham, his family name being Tinker. 



I08 ,V£fV EXGLAXD. 

At tlie time of my father's deatli, my eldest brother was at 
sea in a merchant-vessel, and my eldest sister \\-as married. 
My mother, with eight children, continued to occupy the tav- 
ern : but the income afiorded slender means for the support 
and education of so numerous a family ; and this income, 
insufficient as it ^^*as, ^^'as diminished by the expenses of an 
unsuccessful lawsuit which the administrator on my fathers 
estate prosecuted against one of tlie individuals who had 
reaped the beneiit of his transactions as a contractor of 
supplies for the army. 

I have no other recollection of my father living than an 
indistinct idea of sitting on his knee, and hearing him sing for 
my diversion ; but, of the father ii<:ati, tlie picture is fresh and 
\'i\'id. The sensation that I felt when carried into the room 
where the body was laid out in its shroud, I shall never forget 
The room \\-as darkened ; whether by the closing of window- 
curtains, or by a cloudy atmosphere, I cannot tell. The body 
lay on a smooth board, which was placed on a table. The 
closed eye and tlie pale lip, even the plaits on the stock 
around the neck (such as were then worn by men. and buckled 
on the back of the neck), now form as perfect an image in my 
memor}- as the fold in the sheet of paper on which I am writ- 
ing. Of the funeral, too, my- recollection is almost as distinct 
as the remembrance of the events of the last week. The bier 
is standing before the door. The coffin is placed on it, and 
covered with a black pall. A procession is formed, and goes 
to the meeting-house. The bell tolls. The funeral-prayer is 
said. The procession is ag-ain formed, and proceeds to the 
burying-gTOund. The family crowd around the grave. The 
coffin is laid in its appointed place. Mr. Huntington, my 
mother's brother, takes me in his arms, and holds me over it, 
so that I may see the coffin. The earth is thrown upon it. 
I hear tlie rattling of the gravel upon its lid. I feel now, as I 
have al\\-ays felt when I have called up the remembrance of 
this scene, the chill which then curdled my blood, and tlie 
fluttering of the heart that then almost suspended the power 
to breathe. 



A NEW-ENGLAND BOYHOOD. lOQ 

The death of my father, under the circumstances I have 
related, was, of course, but the prelude to further domestic 
calamity. My mother was naturally of a delicate constitution, 
and had been broken down by frequent and severe attacks of 
rheumatic fever. She continued, however, to keep the tavern 
for some months, perhaps a year. At length the establish- 
ment was abandoned, and the family necessarily dispersed. 
The second son went to sea ; the next was apprenticed to a 
saddler ; the third to a shoemaker ; and, for the next two, 
places were provided, at which they were supplied with food 
and clothing for such services as they were able to perform, 
till they should be of an age suitable to go out as apprentices. 
The furniture of the tavern was sold to pay off debts ; and 
my mother, with a few articles indispensable in housekeeping, 
and with two young children (me and a sister two years older), 
hired a couple of rooms in the house which her husband had 
built in the days of his prosperity, and which she had once 
expected to call her own for life. Here, amidst occasional 
sickness, and constant destitution and sorrow, she supported 
her two remaining children by the labor of her hands, chiefly 
needlework. 

But the depth of her destitution and distress she had not 
yet reached. There were still some demands against her late 
husband's estate pressing for payment. How long she con- 
tinued with us in this house, I cannot tell ; but I think I could 
not have been more than four years and a half old, when 
another portion of her scanty stock of furniture was taken 
from her by an officer of the law. With one bed, a case of 
drawers, two or three chairs, and a few cooking-utensils, she 
left the rooms she had occupied, and took refuge in the adjoin- 
ing building, which my father had erected some twenty years 
before for a workshop. She held me and my sister by the 
hand, while a constable sold at the door the only andirons, 
shovel and tongs, chairs, beds, table, &c., which she had 
reserved when she left the tavern ; leaving her one bed, one 
table, three chairs, the old case of drawers, a frying-pan and 
teakettle, and probably the articles absolutely necessary to 



no NEW ENGLAND. 

enable a woman and *\vo children to eat their food with 
decency ; but of this I am not positive. I went to a wheel- 
wright's shop on the opposite side of the street, and gathered 
some chips to build a fire in our new habitation. The place 
of andirons was supplied with stones taken from the street; 
and the service of shovel and tongs was performed by a spoke 
from a broken wheel, — the gift of our neighbor the wheel- 
wright. 

At this time we had no dependence for subsistence but the 
labor of my mother. She was often sick, and unable to work. 
When in a condition to labor, she was employed in sewing for 
a neighbor, who was a tailor, or in '■^binding and closing'''' 
women's shoes, which were then made principally of cloth, for 
another neighbor. This was a business in which she was 
expert, having done much of it when her husband carried on 
the manufacture. I was sometimes employed in sticking card- 
teeth for a manufacturer of cards. But, with all these poor 
resources, we must have suffered with cold and hunger but 
for the charity of a few friends. 

First Schooling. 

I have no recollection of any time when I could not read. 
Probably I had attended a school in the summer after my 
father's death ; but of this I have no remembrance. While we 
were living in this state of abject poverty, some one gave me 
a few coppers on a training-day, with which I bought a New- 
England Primer ; and no speculator who makes his thousands 
by a dash of the pen ever felt richer than I did with my pur- 
chase. To my mother I was indebted for constant daily 
instruction ; and I may say, without boasting, that her pupil 
repaid her attention, and at this moment feels an emotion of 
gratitude which time has not destroyed or enfeebled. My 
elder brothers, when they came home to see us (Heavens, 
what a home !) sometimes brought me a picture-book ; and I 
was the owner of "Robinson Crusoe," "Goody Two-Shoes," 
" Tom Thumb," and perhaps half a dozen other books of a 
similar character. I have a confused idea of going to a 



A NEW-ENGLAND DISTRICT SCHOOL. Til 

woman's school in the summer after I was four years old ; but 
as the district schools were then kept but two months in the 
winter, and two in the summer, two months was the longest 
term that I could have attended, and probably I was not there 
half of the time. 

In December, 1784, the month in which I was five years 
old, I went to a master's school ; and, on being asked if I 
could read, I said I could read in the Bible. The master 
placed me on his chair, and presented a Bible opened at the 
fifth chapter of Acts. I read the story of Ananias and Sap- 
phira falling down dead for telling a lie. He patted me on the 
head, and commended my reading. It was that winter, I 
beheve, that Noah Webster's Spelling-Book was first intro- 
duced into the schools. I could not read with the class to 
which I properly belonged, because they read from that book : 
mine was an old Dilworth, and my mother had not the means 
to buy a Webster. 

But the instruction of my mother was not confined alone to 
teaching me to read. She was a firm believer in the doctrines 
of the Puritans ; and she took pains to impress on my young 
mind the principles of the Westminster Assembly's Cate- 
chism, the whole of which I could repeat, probably before I 
had read it. It was her constant practice to pray with us 
daily. In the morning, before we ate our breakfast, we (my 
sister and I) read each a chapter (or a part of one) in the 
Bible ; and she always followed the reading with a prayer. In 
the evening, after she had placed us in the bed (we had but 
one, and I was placed at the foot), she knelt at the bedside, 
and poured out her heart to the widow's God, — sometimes in 
thankfulness for unlooked-for favors, and at others in suppli- 
cating agonies for relief, which almost prevented utterance. 

A New-England District School. 

At the period of which I am writing, the district schools in 
Connecticut were kept no more than four months in -a year, — 
two in the winter, by a man ; and two in the summer, by a 
woman. That which was taught by the female was for girls, 



112 NEW ENGLAND. 

and for children of both sexes who were just learning the 
alphabet and the first lessons in spelling. I had outgrown 
this school, both in age and acquirement, and never went to 
a female school or teacher after I left my mother. The 
schoolhouse in our district was more than a mile from our 
house ; and during the winter term the weather was often cold 
and boisterous. I went to school only in pleasant weather, 
and never more than half a day at a time, till the winter when 
I attained my fourteenth year. Admitting that I went half 
a day on every alternate day for the two months, which is a 
calculation that I know exceeds the truth, it would amount to 
no more than twelve days in a year. When I was fourteen, I 
began to cipher ; and during that and the next winter my 
attendance at the school was more constant, amounting in 
the aggregate, perhaps, to a couple of months. And there 
ended my cducatiofi, as far as schooling was concerned. But 
I had the good-fortune to live with a family where reading 
and writing were not deemed unimportant, and where I 
learned nearly as much as boys of my age who were more 
constantly at school. Nothing but reading, writing, and arith- 
metic was then taught as branches of common-school edu- 
cation. Of geography I knew but little, and of English 
grammar nothing, till after I began my apprenticeship. It 
was a blessing that I had a disposition for reading, and that I 
had the privilege of indulging it, though the means were 
scanty. The family was a religious one. No labor, except 
works of absolute necessity, was ever performed on Saturday 
evening after sunset. My last exercise on this evening of 
preparation for the sabbath was the repeating of the West- 
minster Catechism, and such psalms or hymns as I might 
have committed to memory in the course of the week. 
There was a time when I could recite Watts's version of the 
Psalms from beginning to end, together with many of his 
Hymns and Lyric Poems. Among these, the " Indian Philos- 
opher," "Few Happy Matches," " True Riches," and " Happy 
Frailty," were my favorite recitations. The poem entitled 
" God's Dominion and Decrees " excited me very much. It 
contained this stanza, — 



i 



A NE W-ENGLAND DIS TRIG T SGHO OL. 1 1 3 

•* Chained to his throne a volume lies, 
With all the fates of men, 
With every angel's form and size, 
Drawn by the eternal pen." 

I was greatly puzzled to make out the picture of this volume 
in my imagination, and was anxious to know how Dr. Watts 
could have found out what it contained, since he afterwards 
said, — 

*' Not Gabriel asks the reason why, 
Nor God the reason gives ; 
Nor dares the favorite angel pry 
Between the folded leaves." 

But I was Still more rapt in astonishment on reading the 
famous poem by the Rev. Michael Wigglesworth, entitled 
" The Day of Doom." The representation, in that poem, of 
the crowd of infants pleading for relief from punishment 
for Adam's transgression, caused me many an hour of intense 
mental agony. But I had access for amusement (not on Sun- 
day or Saturday night) to another set of works, such as I 
have never seen since, and to which I was indebted for much 
useful instruction. We had on our bookshelf a regular file of 
"Almanacks," for near or quite fifty years. Some of them 
were dated as far back as 1720; and some were made by 
" Nathaniel Ames, Philomath.''^ These periodicals I read 
often, and with never-relaxing interest. They contained 
many fragments of history, scraps of poetry, anecdotes, epi- 
grams, &c. One of them had a long poetical account of 
Braddock's defeat. Others contained accounts of events 
which led to the Revolutionary War. One, in particular, 
made a deep impression on my mind. The titlepage had on 
it a large picture of a female, representing America, in a 
recumbent position, held down by men, representing members 
of the British ministry ; while Lord North was pouring tea 
down her throat from an immense teapot. From his pocket 
was represented as falHng out a roll of parchment, labelled 
" Boston Port Bill." The Articles of Confederation between 
the colonies, petitions to the king, the Declaration of Inde- 
8 



114 NE \V ENGLAND. 

pendence, and many other papers connected with the history 
and poHtics of the country, were preserved in these useful 
annuals, and afforded me ample food for study. But what 
excited my especial wonder was the calculations of the eclipses, 
and prognostications concerning the weather. To me these 
old periodicals were sources of delight and instruction. I 
would now give more for that old file of old almanacs than 
for the most splendid of the souvenirs that modern taste and 
skill can produce, merely to enjoy the reminiscences and 
associations which they would awaken. 

A Boy's Books in the Last Century. 

In 1794 my literary treasure was augmented by the addi- 
tion of " GuUiver's Travels," " The History of the Pirates," 
and a larger edition of " Robinson Crusoe," a present from 
my eldest brother, the captain of a merchant-vessel trading 
from Philadelphia to the West Indies ; and again by a pres- 
ent from another brother, a sailor, consisting of " The Vicar 
of Wakefield," "Tristram Shandy," "Tom Jones," "The Let- 
ters of Junius," the eighth volume of "The Spectator," and 
" The Book of Common Prayer." My library now consisted 
of nearly twenty volumes ; and though it may raise a smile 
when I say that these books were an invaluable treasure, to 
a boy of fourteen, yet such was the fact. I cannot say that 
I read "Junius " with as much pleasure as I did "The Vicar 
of Wakefield ; " yet I am vain enough to think that I imbibed, 
even from "Junius," some ideas that have not been without 
influence in later life. As "The Book of Common Prayer" 
had no credit in our family, or in any other family in the 
town, it was exchanged with a peddler for two pamphlets, — 
Addison's " Cato," and " A New-Year's Sermon." 

While in the family of Mr. Welsh, trained as I was to 
simple and economical habits, I knew nothing of expensive 
pleasures ; and, thus happily ignorant, I felt not the want of 
the means of indulgence. My visits to my mother, and the 
amusements of the class of persons with whom I associated, 
required no expenditure of money. Of what are called "per- 



A PRINTER'S APPRENTICE. II5 

quisites," I had none before I was fourteen years old. Then 
I was allowed the privilege of selling to a brushmaker the 
bristles that came from the swine as they were slaughtered. 
For a small bunch of these, I received ninepence (the eighth 
of a dollar); and this was the first bit of silver that I 
could call mine. It was kept for years as a pocket-piece ; and, 
when parted with, it was to pay the postage of a letter to my 
mother. At the same time, the privilege was granted to me 
of selling a certain quantity of walnuts, of which the woods 
and pastures afforded a plentiful supply. A bushel or two, 
in the autumn of 1794, produced a sum sufficient to enable 
me to buy a slate and pencil, Dilworth's Arithmetic, and 
the Second and Third Parts of Noah Webster's American 
Institute, the Grammar, and the Selection of Reading-Les- 
sons. Grammar was not then a study in the district schools ; 
but I had conceived an idea that the knowledge of it was a 
desirable accomplishment. I therefore undertook to study it 
by myself. But my ambition soon received a check. After a 
number of evenings spent in committing twenty or thirty pages 
to memory, and confusing my head with numbers and cases, 
modes and tenses, declensions and conjugations, I discovered 
that my attempt to learn without an instructor was vain and 
useless ; and my grammar was thrown aside as a seven-sealed 
book. 

A Printer's Apprentice. 

In December, 1795, my term of service with Mr. Welsh 
expired. I had formed a resolution to learn the trade of a 
printer. Through the agency of my brother, whom I looked 
upon as a sort of guardian, a place for me was provided in the 
office of David Carlisle, at Walpole, N.H. ; and there I was 
initiated in the mystery of type-setting. My apprenticeship 
began on the 5th of March, 1796, and owing to a difficulty in 
accommodating myself, with the " steady habits '' in which I 
had been educated in Connecticut, to the less economical pro- 
pensities of some of the other and older apprentices, my 
service there was closed about the beginning of September 
following. During these six months, I never spent a happy 



1 1 6 NEW ENGLAND. 

day. Two hours had not elapsed after my entrance into the 
ofBce, before I was called upon "to treat." I resisted the call 
for several days, but was at length overcome by the daily and 
almost hourly annoyance ; and more than half of the small 
amount of money I possessed was expended for brandy, wine, 
sugar, eggs, crackers, cheese, &c. Till then my lips had 
never been in contact with either of those liquors. Now I 
was Hterally compelled to swallow them, distasteful and nau- 
seous though they were. I say coinpelledj for what boy of six- 
teen could stand up against the sneers and ribaldry of eight or 
ten older ones, who laughed at his scruples, and reproached 
him for his lack of honor and manhood in having never been 
drunk ? After having " treated," as I was the youngest ap- 
prentice, I was not called upon for change to buy the wine 
and eggs which were taken by my seniors three or four morn- 
ings in a week ; but it was my lot to go to the store for these 
articles, and to be on the watch to see if they were not likely 
to be disturbed by the appearance of Carlisle. How it hap- 
pened that I did not acquire an appetite for intoxicating 
liquors during this period, I cannot tell ; for the most irre- 
sistible argument to overturn the resolution of a young mind, 
namely, ridicule, was constantly applied. Whether I 
should have come off victorious^ if I had continued longer 
in the place, is more than I would undertake now to assert. 
Of the paper published by Carlisle, and of those who were his 
assistants in conducting it, I have elsewhere written.^ 

A few days after leaving Walpole, I found myself in the 
office of Thomas Dickman, publisher of "The Greenfield 
Gazette," at Greenfield, Mass. The terms on which I here 
commenced anew my apprenticeship were such as would have 
contented me, if the business had been more extensive. It was 
agreed that I should be paid five dollars a year to supply me 
with shoes (!), and that I should be paid a certain fixed price 
for all the work done over the prescribed daily task. The 
difficulty was, that, when the stint was done, there was no more 

* See Specimens of Newspaper Literature, vol. ii. pp. 174-220. 



A PRINTER'S APPRENTICE. 11/ 

work to do. Of course, I could earn nothing for myself ; and, 
before the first winter expired, my wardrobe was in a most 
degenerate condition. The apprentices (there were two be- 
side me) had the privilege of printing such small jobs as they 
might obtain, without interfering with the regular business of 
the office ; and, as we clubbed our labors, we not unfrequently 
gathered a few shillings by printing ballads and small pam- 
phlets for peddlers, who at that time were tolerably good 
customers to country printers.^ 

Being the youngest apprentice, it was a part of my duty, on 
pubhcation days, to distribute the " Gazette " to the sub- 
scribers living in the village, the number of which amounted to 
no more than thirty or thirty-five. According to time-indefinite 
custom, I had a " New-Year's Address " with which to salute 
my customers. It was written by an acquaintance, about my 
own age, and a clerk in a store at Guilford Vt.^ It consisted of 
five stanzas of six lines each ; but, though short, it was rich 
in patriotic sentiment, and expressions of regard for the 
patrons of the " Gazette." O Croesus ! how mean and insig- 
nificant was* thy grandeur, how poor and unenvied thy treas- 
ures, when I compared (or might have compared) thy lot with 
mine, when, on the evening of the first day of January, 1797, 
I counted my wealth, — six dollars and seventy-five 
CENTS, all in quarters and eighths of a dollar, — and locked 
it in my chest ! Never before had I been the owner of so 
much money ; never before so rich. Yet I was sadly puz- 
zled to decide how I should employ my cash ; for my wants 
were so numerous, that the amount, large as it was, was alto- 
gether inadequate to supply them. The first appropriation 
was for a new hat. The purchase of a pocket-handkerchief, a 
cravat, and a pair of stockings, soon followed, and occasioned 
in my treasury a deficit of a shilling or two, for which the 
shopkeeper civilly gave me a short credit. This was the first 
debt I had contracted. How supremely happy might I have 
been had it been the last ! 

* Sec Specimens of Newspaper Literature, vol. il. pp. 31S-425. 
« The late Samuel Elliot of Brattleborough. 



1 1 8 NEW ENGLAND. 

In the course of the first year of my apprenticeship at 
Greenfield, my attempt to form an acquaintance with Enghsh 
grammar was renewed. I foresaw that it would be useful to 
me as a printer, but indispensable as an editor, — a profes- 
sion to which I looked forward as the consummation of my 
ambition. I still had my Webster ; and chance threw in my 
way a small treatise by Caleb Alexander. Curiosity induced 
me to read a page or two of one, and then a page or two of 
the other, to see if they differed, and, if so, wherein the dif- 
ference consisted. While thus engaged, a gleam of light 
broke through the dark cloud that had hitherto enveloped this 
intricate science. For some months, most of my leisure hours 
were spent in study ; but, as I had no instructor, my progress 
was not very rapid. It w^as my usual practice, after I had 
obtained some general notion of what grammar was, to com- 
pare the copy I had to put in type with the rules, and to cor- 
rect it if it was wrong. Shortly after I adopted this exercise, 
it became pleasant, and even fascinating. No romance was 
ever more interesting than this practice of com|_)aring Noah 
Webster and Caleb Alexander, noting their differences, and 
forming a system of my own, which I had the vanity to 
think was better than either ! To this day no species of 
literary composition has interested me more than works of 
philology and criticism. 

The Printing Business in Boston. 

Soon after my mother's death, — in August, 1798, — Dick- 
man sold his entire printing establishment to Francis Barker, 
a young man who had served an apprenticeship in the office 
of Messrs. Thomas & Andrews, Boston. Not being an in- 
dented apprentice, I was at liberty to seek my fortune where 
I would, but was content to remain with Barker on the liberal 
terms which he offered. Barker became dissatisfied with his 
position; and in June, 1799, he resold the establishment to 
Dickman. Following his advice, I resolved to seek a place in 
Boston, where I could obtain a more thorough knowledge of 
the business of book-printing, and to avail myself of ad van- 



THE PRINTING BUSINESS IN BOSTON. I I9 

tages not attainable in a small country office. I left Green- 
field on the 4tli of July, 1799, with my wardrobe tied up in a 
handkerchief, and with about forty cents in my pocket, and 
walked to Northampton. I sou;^ht and obtained employment 
for a few months in the printing-office of Andrew Wright, and 
afterwards, for a few months more, in the office of William 
Butler. Having obtained the means of supplying some 
necessary wants, I started for Boston ; and pursuing my way, 
partly on foot, and sometimes in sleighs when invited by way- 
farers to ride, I completed my journey in three days and a 
half. On the fourth day, which was Saturday, the 8th of 
February, 1800, I arrived in Boston, and immediately sought 
employment. It was obtained before one o'clock, in the office 
of Manning & Loring, who were then the principal book- 
printers in the town. They were men of strong religious ten- 
dencies, and conscientious observers of all religious times and 
services. They were at this time much pressed with work, — 
orations, sermons, and other tracts, occasioned by the death 
of Gen. Washington ; and all hands worked, as requested, till 
twelve o'clock, but were not permitted to hold a composing- 
stick in their hands after the clock struck that hour. 

The reminiscences of a journeyman printer will not be 
esteemed as very valuable contributions to the literature of 
the present day. If written out in full, mine would be a 
volume composed chiefly of notices of hard-laboring contem- 
poraries, of privations and sufferings that the world knew 
nothing of, of physical and mental toil by day and by night, 
which brought neither wealth nor reputation to the laborer, 
though it transformed many an illiterate production into a 
shape fit for the public eye, which would otherwise have been 
cast aside as discreditable to its author. Many persons who 
condescend to illumine the dark world with the sparklings of 
their genius through the columns of a newspaper, and others 
who publish sermons and tracts, religious, moral, and political, 
little think of the labor of the printer, who (perhaps neariy 
suffocated with the smoke of a lamp, and with an aching head, 
and eyes inflamed and enfeebled from intense application) sits 



I20 NEW ENGLAND. 

up till midnight, or till daylight, to correct his false grammar, 
bad orthography, and worse punctuation. I have seen the 
arguments of lawyers who stood in high repute as scholars 
sent to the printer in their own handwriting, — chirography 
which would defy the sagacity of the most inveterate investi- 
gator of ancient hieroglyphics, — abounding with technical and 
foreign terms abbreviated, words misspelled, and few (or no) 
points, and those few entirely misplaced. I have seen ser- 
mons of eminent scholars and " divines " sent to the press 
without points or capitals to designate the division of sen- 
tences, — sermons which, if published with the imperfections 
of the manuscript, would be a disgrace to any apprentice, if he 
were the author. Some writers use no points whatever ; some 
use a comma for all occasions ; some prefer the dash, and 
use it in place of all other points. I once saw the manuscript 
of a sermon in the hands of a printer, which was entirely with- 
out points, and every line began with a capital letter, as if it 
had been poetry. Suppose these productions had been printed 
as they were written. The disgrace would have fallen upon 
the printer. He would have been called an illiterate block- 
head, better fitted for a wood-sawyer than a printer ; and the 
author would still enjoy his reputation as a scholar, and 
receive the sympathy of his readers as a man injured by the 
printer's ignorance. Nobody would believe that such gross 
and palpable faults were owing to the carelessness of the 
author ; and no one but a practical printer knows how many 
hours a compositor, and after him a proof-reader, is com- 
pelled to spend in reducing to a readable condition manu- 
scripts which the writers themselves would be puzzled to read 
with propriety. 

After an experience of more than fifty years, I "hold this 
truth to be self-evident," that there is no class of working- 
men so poorly paid as printers. For one who makes himself 
rich by printing, disconnected with the business of publishing, 
fifty barely live above poverty, and die in the possession of 
little more than enough to pay the joiner for a coflin, and the 
sexton for a grave. This is, or was, peculiarly the lot of 



THE PRINTING BUSINESS IN BOSTON 121 

journeymen. There are probably not many in the large towns 
who have not been called on, some time in the course of their 
lives, to contribute a portion of their earnings for the relief of 
a sick brother and his family, or to pay the expenses of his 
funeral. I know it may be said — for it has often been said, 
— that journeymen printers are improvident, addicted to ex- 
pensive pleasures, and indulge in hurtful and destructive 
habits. I do not deny that they have their faults, and are 
subject to the same propensities as other men. Let it be 
admitted that individual cases of j^overty and sickness have 
been produced by improper and even vicious indulgence : still 
I deny, that, as a class, they are obnoxious to the reproachful 
charge. They were not forty or fifty years ago ; nor do I be- 
lieve they are now. Yet, forty or fifty years ago, indulgence 
in the use of intoxicating drinks was much more prevalent 
than it is at the present day. It was not then discreditable, 
even to men of much higher pretensions to notoriety than 
journeymen printers, to be a little mellow ; and they were 
known to take bitters in the morning before breakfast, flip or 
punch at eleven o'clock, brandy before dinner, and wine after 
it, and repeated till bedtime, as taste, habit, or opportunity 
could authorize. Such liberality no printer, especially no 
journeyman, could afford to practise. 



NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS, 




The Town of Albany. 

iRS. GRANT of Laggan, whose "Memoirs of an 
American Lady " form the principal source of our 
information of the manners and social customs of 
the old New York families just previous to the 
Revolution, has introduced her volume with an account of 
the Dutch settlement of the Hudson River ; and as her own 
observation was largely of the life at the upper settlement, 
as it was called, of Albany, she gives a somewhat minute 
description of the place and its inhabitants, from which we 
take the following.] 

The city of Albany stretched along the banks of the Hud- 
son : one very wide and long street lay parallel to the river, 
the intermediate space between it and the shore being occu- 
pied by gardens. A small but steep hill rose above the centre 
of the town, on which stood a fort, intended (but very ill 
adapted) for the defence of the place and of the neighboring 
country. From the foot of this hill, another street was built, 
sloping pretty rapidly down, till it joined the one before men- 
tioned, that ran along the river. This street was still wider 
than the other : it was only paved on each side, the middle 
being occupied by public ediiices. These consisted of a 
market-place, or guard-house, a town-liall, and the English 
and Dutch churches. The English church, belonging to the 
Episcopal persuasion, and in the diocese of the Bishop of Lon- 



THE TOWN OF ALBANY. 1 23 

don, stood at the foot of the hill, at the upper end of the 
street. The Dutch church was situated at the bottom of the 
descent, where the street terminated : two irregular streets, 
not so broad, but equally long, ran parallel to those, and a 
few even ones opened between them. The town, in propor- 
tion to its population, occupied a great space of ground. This 
city, in short, was a kind of semi-rural establishment. Every 
house had its garden, well, and a little green behind : before 
every door, a tree was planted, rendered interesting by being 
coeval with some beloved member of the family. Many of 
their trees were of a prodigious size and extraordinary beauty, 
but without regularity, every one planting the kind that best 
pleased him, or which he thought would afford the most 
agreeable shade to the open portico at his door, which was 
surrounded by seats, and ascended by a few steps. It was 
in these that each domestic group was seated in summer 
evenings to enjoy the balmy twilight or the serenely clear 
moonlight. Each family had a cow, fed in a common pas- 
ture at the end of the town. In the evening the herd returned 
all together, of their own accord, with their tinkling bells 
hung at their necks, along the wide and grassy street, to 
their wonted sheltering trees, to be milked at their masters' 
doors. Nothing could be more pleasing to a simple and 
benevolent mind than to see thus, at one view, all the inhabit- 
ants of a town, which contained not one very rich or very 
poor, very knowing or very ignorant, very rude or very pol- 
ished individual, — to see all these children of Nature enjoying 
in easy indolence, or social intercourse, 

** The cool, the fragant, and the dusky hour," 

clothed in the plainest habits, and with minds as undisguised 
and artless. These primitive beings were dispersed in 
porches, grouped according to similarity of years and inclina- 
tions. At one door were young matrons ; at another, the 
elders of the people ; at a third, the youths and maidens, gayly 
chatting or singing together ; while the children played round 



124 NEW YORK' AND THE JERSEYS. 

the trees, or waited by the cows for the chief ingredient of 
their frugal supper, which they generally ate sitting on the 
steps in the open air. This picture, so famiUar to my imagi- 
nation, has led me away from my purpose, which was to 
describe the rural economy and modes of living in this patri- 
archal city. 

The Neighborhood. 

At one end of the town, as I observed before, was a com- 
mon pasture, where all the cattle belonging to the inhabitants 
grazed together. A never-failing instinct guided each home 
to her master's door in the evening, where, being treated with 
a few vegetables and a little fat, which is indispensably neces- 
sary for cattle in this country, they patiently waited the 
night ; and, after being milked in the morning, they went off 
in slow and regular procession to the pasture. At the other 
end of the town was a fertile plain along the river, three miles 
in length, and near a mile broad. This was all divided into 
lots, where every inhabitant raised Indian corn sufficient for 
the food of two or three slaves (the greatest number that each 
family ever possessed), and for his horses, pigs, and poultry : 
their flour and other grain they purchased from farmers in the 
vicinity. Above the town, a long stretch to the westward 
was occupied first by sandy hills, on which grew bilberries 
of uncommon size and flavor, in prodigious quantities ; be- 
yond, rise heights of a poor, hungry soil, thinly covered with 
stunted pines or dwarf oak. Yet in this comparatively bar- 
ren tract there were several wild and picturesque spots, where 
small brooks, running in deep and rich bottoms, nourished on 
their banks every vegetable beauty : there some of the most 
industrious early settlers had cleared the luxuriant wood from 
these charming glens, and built neat cottages for their slaves, 
surrounded with little gardens and orchards, sheltered from 
every blast, wildly picturesque, and richly productive. Those 
small, sequestered vales had an attraction that I know not 
how to describe, and which probably resulted from the air of 
deep repose that reigned there, and the strong contrast which 
they exhibited to the surrounding steriHty. One of these 



EARLY HABITS OF THE ALBANIANS. 12$ 

was in my time inhabited by a hermit. He was a French- 
man, and did not seem to inspire much veneration among the 
Albanians. They imagined, or had heard, that he retired 
to that soHtude in remorse for some fatal duel in which he 
had been engaged ; and considered him as an idolater, be- 
cause he had an image of the Virgin in his hut. I think he 
retired to Canada at last ; but I remember being ready to 
worship him for the sanctity with which my imagination 
invested him, and being cruelly disappointed because I was 
not permitted to visit him. These cottages were in summer 
occupied by some of the negroes, who cultivated the grounds 
about them, and served as a place of joyful liberty to the chil- 
dren of the family on holidays, and as a nursery for the 
young negroes, whom it was the custom to rear very tenderly, 
and instruct very carefully. 

Education and Early Habits of the Albanians. 

The foundations both of friendship and still tenderer at- 
tachments were here laid very early by an institution which 
I always thought had been peculiar to Albany till I found, in 
Dr. Moore's " View of Society on the Continent," an account 
of a similar custom subsisting in Geneva. The children of 
the town were all divided into companies, as they called them, 
from five or six yea s of age, till they became marriageable. 
How those companies first originated, or what were their exact 
regulations, I cannot say ; though I, belonging to none, occa- 
sionally mixed with several, yet always as a stranger, not- 
withstanding that I spoke their current language fluently. 
Every company contained as many boys as girls. But I do 
not know that there was any limited number : only this I re- 
collect, that a boy and girl of each company, who were older, 
cleverer, or had some other pre-eminence above the rest, 
were called heads of the company, and as such were obeyed 
by the others. Whether they were voted in, or attained their 
pre-eminence by a tacit acknowledgment of their superiority, 
I know not ; but, however it was attained, it was never dis- 
puted. The company of little children had also their heads. 



126 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

All the children of the same age were not in one company. 
There were at least three or four of equal ages, who had a 
strong rivalry with each other ; and children of different ages, 
in the same family, belonged to different companies. Wherever 
there is human nature, there will be a degree of emulation, 
strife, and a desire to lower others, that we may exalt our- 
selves. Dispassionate as my friends comparatively were, 
and bred up in the highest attainable candor and innocence, 
they regarded the company most in competition with their 
own with a degree of jealous animosity. Each company, at 
a certain time of the year, went in a body to gather a particu- 
lar kind of berries, to the hill. It was a sort of annual fes- 
tival, attended with religious punctuahty. Every company 
had a uniform for this purpose ; that is to say, very pretty 
light baskets made by the Indians, with lids and handles, 
which hung over the arm, and were adorned with various 
colors. One company would never allow the least degree of 
taste to the other in this instance, and was sure to vent its 
whole stock of spleen in decrying the rival baskets. Nor 
would they ever admit that the rival company gathered near 
so much fruit on these excursions as they did. The parents 
of these children seemed very much to encourage this man- 
ner of marshalling and dividing themselves. Every child was 
permitted to entertain the whole company on its birthday, 
and once besides, during winter and spring. The master and 
mistress of the family always were bound to go from home 
on these occasions ; while some old domestic was left to attend 
and watch over them, with an ample provision of tea, choco- 
late, preserved and dried fruits, nuts, and cakes of various 
kinds, to which was added cider, or a sillabub ; for these 
young friends met at four, and did not part till nine or ten, and 
amused themselves with the utmost gayety and freedom in any 
way their fancy dictated. I speak from hearsay ; for no per- 
son that does not belong to the company is ever admitted to 
these meetings. Other children or young people visit occasion- 
ally, and are civilly treated ; but they admit of no intimacies 
beyond their company. The consequence of these exclusive 



A MUSEMENTS, 1 2 / 

and early intimacies was, that, grown up, it was reckoned a 
sort of apostasy to marry out of one's company, and, indeed, 
it did not often happen. The girls, from the example of their 
mothers, rather than any compulsion, very early became 
notable and industrious, being constantly employed in knitting 
stockings, and making clothes for the family and slaves: 
they even made all the boys' clothes. This was the more 
necessary, as all articles of clothing were extremely dear. 
Though all the necessaries of life, and some luxuries, 
abounded, money, as yet, was a scarce commodity. This 
industry was the more to be admired, as children were here 
indulged to a degree, that, in our vitiated state of society, 
would have rendered them good for nothing. 

The children returned the fondness of their parents with 
such tender affection, that they feared giving them pain as 
much as ours do punishment, and very rarely wounded their 
feelings by neglect or rude answers. Yet the boys were 
often wilful and giddy at a certain age, the girls being sooner 
tamed and domesticated. 

These youths were apt, whenever they could carry a gun 
(which they did at a very early period), to follow some favor- 
ite negro to the woods, and, while he was employed in felling 
trees, to range the whole day in search of game, to the neg- 
lect of all intellectual improvement ; and they thus contracted 
a love of savage liberty which might, and in some instances 
did, degenerate into licentious and idle habits. Indeed, there 
were three stated periods in the year, when for a few days 
young and old, masters and slaves, were abandoned to unruly 
enjoyment, and neglected every serious occupation for pur- 
suits of this nature. 

Amusements. 

Before I quit the subject of Albanian manners, I must 
describe their amusements, and some other peculiarities in 
their modes of life. When I say their amusements, I mean 
those in which they differed from most other people. Such 
as they had in common with others require no description. 
They were exceedingly social, and visited each other very 



128 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

frequently, besides the regular assembling together in their 
porches every fine evening. Of the more substantial luxuries 
of the table they knew little, and of the formal and ceremo- 
nious parts of good breeding still less. 

If you went to spend a day anywhere, you were received 
in a manner we should think very cold. No one rose to wel- 
come you : no one wondered you had not come sooner, or 
apologized for any deficiency in your entertainment. Dinner, 
which was very early, was served exactly in the same manner 
as if there were only the family. The house indeed was so 
exquisitely neat and v^ell regulated, that you could not sur- 
prise these people : they saw each other so often and so 
easily, that intimates made no difference. Of strangers they 
were shy; not by any means from want of hospitality, but 
from a consciousness that people who had little to value them- 
selves on but their knowledge of the modes and ceremonies 
of polished life disliked their sincerity, and despised their 
simplicity. If you showed no insolent wonder, but easily and 
quietly adopted their manners, you would receive from them 
not only very great civility, but much essential kindness. 
Whoever has not common sense and common gratitude 
enough to pay this tribute of accommodation to those among 
whom he is destined for the time to live must, of course, be 
an insulated, discontented being, and come home railing at 
the people whose social comforts he disdained to partake. 
After sharing this plain and unceremonious dinner, which 
might, by the by, chance to be a very good one, but was in- 
variably that which was meant for the family, tea was served 
in at a very early hour. And here it was that the distinction 
shown to strangers commenced. Tea here was a perfect 
regale, being served up with various sorts of cakes unknown 
to us, cold pastry, and great quantities of sweetmeats and 
preserved fruits of various kinds, and plates of hickory and 
other nuts ready cracked. In all manner of confectionery 
and pastry these people excelled ; and having fruit in great 
plenty, which cost them nothing, and getting sugar home at 
an easy rate, in return for their exports to the West Indies, 



* 



RURAL EXCURSIONS. 1 29 

the quantity of these articles used in famihes otherwise plain 
and frugal was astonishing. Tea was never unaccompanied 
with one of these petty articles; but for strangers a great 
display was made. If you staid supper, you were sure of a 
most substantial though plain one. In this meal, they de- 
parted, out of compliment to the strangers, from their usual 
simplicity. Having dined between twelve and one, you were 
quite prepared for it. You had either game or poultry roasted, 
and always shellfish in the season : you had also fruit in 
abundance. All this with much neatness, but no form. The 
seeming coldness with which you were first received wore off 
by degrees. They could not accommodate their topics to 
you, and scarcely attempted it. But the conversation of the 
old, though limited in regard to subjects, was rational and 
easy, and had in it an air of originality and truth not without 
its attractions. That of the young was natural and pla^iul, 
yet full of localities, which lessened its interest to a stranger, 
but were extremely amusing when you became one of the 
initiated. 

Rural Excursions. 

Their diversions (I mean those of the younger class) were 
marked by a simplicity which to strangers appeared rude 
and childish. In spring, eight or ten of one company, or re- 
lated to each other, young men and maidens, would set out 
together in a canoe on a kind of rural excursion, of which 
amusement was the object. Yet so fixed were their habits 
of industry, that they never failed to carry their work-baskets 
with them, not as a fomi, but as an ingredient necessarily 
mixed with their pleasures. They went without attendants, 
and steered a devious course of four, five, or perhaps more 
miles, till they arrived at some of the beautiful islands with 
which this fine river abounded, or at some sequestered spot 
on its banks, where delicious wild fruits, or particular conve- 
niences for fishing, afforded some attraction. There they 
generally arrived by nine or ten o'clock, having set out in the 
cool and early hour of sunrise. Often they met another party, 
going, perhaps, to a different place, and joined them, or in- 
9 



I30 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

duced them to take their route. A basket with tea, sugar, 
and the other usual provisions for breakfast, with the appa- 
ratus for cooking it, a little rum and fruit for making cool, 
weak punch (the usual* beverage in the middle of the day), and 
now and then some cold pastry, were the sole provisions ; for 
the great affair was to depend on the sole exertions of the 
boys in procuring fish, wild ducks, &c., for their dinner. They 
were all, like Indians, ready and dexterous with the axe, gun, 
&c. Whenever they arrived at their destination, they sought 
out a dry and beautiful spot opposite to the river, and in an 
instant, with their axes, cleared so much superfluous shade 
or shrubbery as left a semicircular opening, above which they 
bent and twined the boughs so as to form a pleasant bower; 
while the girls gathered dried branches, to which one of the 
youths soon set fire with gunpowder; and the breakfast, a 
very regular and cheerful one, occupied an hour or two. The 
young men then set out to fish, or perhaps to shoot birds ; 
and the maidens sat busily down to their work, singing and 
conversing with all the ease and gayety which the benign 
serenity of the atmosphere, and the beauty of the surrounding 
scene, were calculated to inspire. After the sultry hours had 
been thus employed, the boys brought their tribute from the 
river or the wood, and found a rural meal prepared by their 
fair companions, among whom were generally their sisters 
and the chosen of their hearts. After dinner they all set out 
together to gather wild strawberries, or whatever other fruit 
was in season ; for it was accounted a reproach to come home 
empty handed. When weary of this amusement, they either 
drank tea in their bower, or, returning, landed at some friend's 
on the way, to partake of that refreshment. Here, indeed, 

"Youth's free spirit, innocently gay, 
Enjoyed the most that innocence could give." 

Another of their summer amusements was going to the 
Bush, which was thus managed : a party of young people set 
out in little open carriages, something in the form of a gig, of 
which every family had one. Every one carried something 



RURAL EXCURSIONS. I3I 

with him, as in these cases there was no hunting to furnish 
provision. One brought wine for negus ; another, tea and 
coffee of a superior quality ; a third, a pigeon-pie : in short, 
every one brought something, no matter how trifling ; for there 
was no emulation about the extent of the contribution. In 
this same Bush there were spots to which the poorer members 
of the community retired, to work their way with patient 
industry through much privation and hardship, compared to 
the plenty and comfort enjoyed by the rest. They, perhaps, 
could only afford to have one negro woman, whose children, 
as they grew up, became to their master a source of plenty 
and ease. But, in the mean time, the goodman wrought hard 
himself, having a little occasional aid sent him by his 
friends. He had plenty of the necessaries of life, but no lux- 
uries. His wife and daughters milked the cows, and wrought 
at the hay ; and his house was on a smaller scale than the 
older settlers had theirs : yet he had always one neatly furnished 
room, a very clean house with a pleasant portico before it, 
generally a fine stream beside his dwelling, and some Indian 
wigwams near it. He was wood-surrounded, and seemed ab- 
solutely to live in the bosom of Nature, screened from all the 
artificial ills of life ; and those spots, cleared of encumbrances, 
yet rich in native luxuriance, had a wild originality about them 
not easily described. The young parties, or sometimes the 
elder ones, who set out on this woodland excursion, had no 
fixed destination. They travelled generally in the forenoon, 
and, when they were tired of going on the ordinary road, 
turned into the Bush ; and whenever they saw an inhabited 
spot with the appearance of which they were pleased, they 
went in with all the ease of intimacy, and told them they were 
come to spend the afternoon there. The good people, not in 
the least surprised at this intrusion, very calmly opened the 
reserved apartments, or, if it were very hot, received them in 
the portico. The guests produced their stores; and they 
boiled their teakettle, and provided cream, nuts, or any pe- 
culiar dainty of the woods which they chanced to have ; and 
they always furnished bread and butter, which were excellent 



132 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

in their kinds. They were invited to share the collation, 
which they did with great ease and frankness ; then dancing, 
or any other amusement that struck their fancy, succeeded. 
They sauntered about the bounds in the evening, and returned 
by moonlight. These good people felt not the least embar- 
rassed at the rustic plainness of every thing about them. 
They considered themselves as in the way, after a little longer 
exertion of patient industry, to have every thing that the 
others had ; and their guests thought it an agreeable variety 
in this abrupt manner to visit their sequestered abodes. 

Winter Amusements. 

In winter the river, frozen to a great depth, formed the 
principal road through the country, and was the scene of all 
those amusements of skating and sledge races common to the 
north of Europe. They used, in great parties, to visit their 
friends at a distance ; and, having an excellent and hardy breed 
of horses, flew from place to place over the snow or ice in 
these sledges with incredible rapidity, stopping a little while 
at every house they came to, where they were always well 
received, whether acquainted with the owners or not. The 
night never impeded these travellers ; for the atmosphere was 
so pure and serene, and the snow so reflected the moon and 
starlight, that the nights exceeded the days in beauty. 

In town all the boys were extravagantly fond of a diversion 
that to us would appear a very odd and childish one. The 
great street of the town, in the midst of which, as has been 
formerly mentioned, stood all the churches and public build- 
ings, sloped down from the hill on which the fort stood, 
towards the river. Between the buildings was an unpaved 
carriage-road ; the footpath beside the houses being the only 
part of the street which was paved. In winter this sloping 
descent, continued for more than a quarter of a mile, acquired 
firmness from the frost, and became extremely slippery. 
Then the amusement commenced. Every boy and youth in 
town, from eight to eighteen, had a little low sledge, made 
with a rope like a bridle to the front, by which one could drag 



FASHIONABLE PIG-STEALING, 1 33 

it by the hand. On this one or two, at most, could sit ; and 
the sloping descent being made as smooth as a looking-glass 
by sliders' sledges, &c., perhaps a hundred at once set out in 
succession from the top of the street, each seated in his little 
sledge, with the rope in his hand, which, drawn to the right 
or left, served to guide him. He pushed it off wuth a little 
stick, as one would launch a boat ; and then, with the most 
astonishing velocity, precipitated by the w^eight of the owner, 
the little machine glided past, and was at the lower end of the 
street in an instant. What could be so peculiarly delightful 
in this rapid and smooth descent, I could never discover, — 
yet in a more retired place, and on a smaller scale, I have 
tried the amusement, — but, to a young Albanian, sleighing, 
as he called it, was one of the first joys of life, though at- 
tended with the drawback of dragging his sledge to the top 
of the declivity every time he renewed his flight, for such it 
might well be called. In the managing this little machine, 
some dexterity was necessary : an unskilful phaeton was sure 
to fall. The vehicle was so low, that a fall was attended with 
little danger, yet with much disgrace ; for a universal laugh 
from all sides assailed the fallen charioteer. This laugh was 
from a very full chorus ; for the constant and rapid succession 
of the train, where every one had a brother, lover, or kins- 
man, brought all the young people in town to the porticos, 
where they used to sit wrapped in furs till ten or eleven at 
night, engrossed by the delectable spectacle. What magical 
attraction it could possibly have, I never could find out ; but 
I have known an Albanian, after residing some years in 
Britain, and becoming a polished fine gentleman, join the 
sport, and slide down with the rest. Perhaps, after all our 
laborious refinements in amusements, being easily pleased is 
one of the great secrets of happiness, as far as it is retainable 
in this " frail and feverish being." 

Fashionable Pig-Stealing. 

Now there remains another amusement to be described, 
which I mention with reluctance, and should hardly venture 



134 ^^^ YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

to mention at all, if I had not found a precedent for it among 
the virtuous Spartans. Had Lycurgus himself been the 
founder of their community, the young men could scarce have 
stolen with more alacrity and dexterity. I could never con- 
jecture how the custom could possibly originate among a set 
of people of such perfect and plain integrity. But thus it 
was. The young men now and then spent a convivial evening 
at a tavern together, where, from the extreme cheapness of 
liquor, their bills (even when they committed an occasional 
excess) were very moderate. Either to lessen the expense of 
the supper, or from the pure love of what they styled frolic 
(Anglice mischief), they never failed to steal either a roasting- 
pig or a fat turkey for this festive occasion. The town was 
the scene of these depredations, which never extended beyond 
it. Swine and turkeys were reared in great numbers by all 
the inhabitants. For those they brought to town in winter, 
they had an appropriate place at the lower end of the garden, 
in which they locked them up. It is observable, that these 
animals were the only things locked up about the house, for 
this good reason, that nothing else ran the least risk of being 
stolen. The dexterity of the theft consisted in climbing over 
very high walls, watching to steal in when the negroes went 
down to feed the horse or cow, or making a clandestine en- 
trance at some window or aperture : breaking up doors was 
quite out of rule, and rarely ever resorted to. These exploits 
were always performed in the darkest nights. If the owner 
heard a noise in his stables, he usually ran down with a 
cudgel, and laid it without mercy on any culprit he could over- 
take. This was either dexterously avoided, or patiently borne. 
To plunder a man, and afterwards offer him any personal 
injury, was accounted scandalous ; but the turkeys or pigs 
were never recovered. In some instances, a whole band of 
these young plunderers would traverse the town, and carry off 
such a prey as would afford provision for many jovial nights. 
Nothing was more common than to find one's brothers or 
nephews among these pillagers. 

Marriage was followed by two dreadful privations : a mar- 



FASHIONABLE PIG-STEALING. 1 35 

ried man could not fly down the street in a little sledge, nor 
join a party of pig-stealers, without outraging decorum. If 
any of their confederates married, as they frequently did, 
very young, and were in circumstances to begin housekeeping, 
they were sure of an early visit of this nature from their old 
confederates. It was thought a great act of gallantry to over- 
take and chastise the robbers. I recollect an instance of one 
young married man who had not long attained to that dignity. 
His turkeys screaming violently one night, he ran down to 
chastise the aggressors : he overtook them in the act ; but, 
finding they were his old associates, he could not resist the 
force of habit, so joined the rest in another exploit of the 
same nature, and then shared his own turkey at the tavern. 
There were two inns in the town, the masters of which were 
"honorable men ; " yet these pigs and turkeys were always 
received and dressed, without questioning whence they came. 
In one instance a young party had, in this manner, provided 
a pig, and ordered it to be roasted at the King's Arms : 
another party attacked the same place whence this booty was 
taken, but found it already rifled. This party was headed by 
an idle, mischievous young man, who was the Ned Poins of 
his fraternity ; well guessing how the stolen roasting-pig was 
disposed of, he ordered his friends to adjourn to the rival 
tavern, and went himself to the King's Arms. Inquiring in 
the kitchen (where a pig was roasting) who supped there, he 
soon arrived at certainty ; then, taking an opportunity when 
there was no one in the kitchen but the cook-maid, he sent for 
one of the jovial party, who were at cards up stairs. During 
her absence, he cut the string by which the pig was sus- 
pended, laid it in the dripping-pan, and, through the quiet and 
dark streets of that sober city, carried it safely to the other 
tavern, where, after finishing the roasting, he and his compan- 
ions prepared to regale themselves. Meantime the pig was 
missed at the King's Arms ; and it was immediately con- 
cluded, from the dexterity and address with which this trick 
was performed, that no other but the Poins aforesaid could 
be the author of it. A new stratagem was now devised to 



136 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

outwit this stealer of the stolen. An adventurous youth of the 
despoiled party laid down a parcel of shavings opposite to 
the other tavern, and, setting them in a blaze, cried, " Fire ! " 
a most alarming sound here, where such accidents were too 
frequent. Every one rushed out of the house just as supper 
had been served. The dexterous purveyor who had occa- 
sioned all this disturbance stole in, snatched up the dish with 
the pig in it, stole out again by the back-door, and feasted his 
companions with the recovered spoils. 

These were a few idle young men, the sons of avaricious 
fathers, who, grudging to advance the means of pushing them 
forward, by the help of their own industry, to independence, 
allowed them to remain so long unoccupied, that their time 
was wasted, and habits of conviviality at length degenerated 
into those of dissipation. They were not only pitied and 
endured, but received with a wonderful degree of kindness 
and indulgence. They were usually a kind of wags ; went 
about like privileged persons, at whose jests no one took 
offence ; and were, in their discourse and style of humor, so 
much like Shakspeare's clowns, that, on reading that admirable 
author, I thought I recognized my old acquaintances. Of 
them, however, I saw little, the society admitted at my friend's 
being very select. 

Lay-Brothers. 

Before I quit this attempt to delineate the members of 
which this community was composed, I must mention a class 
of aged persons, who, united by the same recollections, pur- 
suits, and topics, associated very much with each other, and 
very little with a world which they seemed to have renounced. 
They might be styled lay-brothers, and were usually widowers, 
or persons who, in consequence of some early disappointment, 
had remained unmarried. These were not devotees, who had, 
as was formerly often the case in Cathohc countries, run from 
the extreme of licentiousness to that of bigotry. They were 
generally persons who were never marked as being irreligious 
or immoral, and were just as little distinguished for peculiar 
Strictness, or devotional fervor. These goodmen lived in the 



LA Y-BRO THERS. 1 3 / 

house of some relation, where they had their own apartments 
to themselves, and only occasionally mixed with the family. 
The people of the town lived to a great age : ninety was fre- 
quently attained ; and I have seen different individuals of both 
sexes who had reached a hundred. These ancients seemed 
to place all their delight in pious books and devotional exer- 
cises, particularly in singing psalms, which they would do in 
their own apartments for hours together. They came out 
and in like ghosts, and were treated as such ; for they never 
spoke, unless when addressed, and seemed very careless of 
the things of this world, like people who had got above it. 
Yet they were much together, and seemed to enjoy each 
other's conversation. Retrospection on the scenes of early 
life, anticipations of that futurity so closely veiled from our 
sight, and discussions regarding various passages of holy 
writ, seemed their favorite themes. They were mild and 
benevolent, but abstracted, and unlike other people. Their 
happiness, for happy I am convinced they were, was of a 
nature peculiar to themselves, not obvious to others. Some 
there were, not deficient in their attention to religious duties, 
who, living in the bosom of their families, took an active and 
cheerful concern to the last in all that amused or interested 
them ; and I never understood that the lay-brothers, as I 
have chosen to call them, blamed them for so doing. One of 
the first Christian virtues, charity in the most accepted and 
common sense of the word, had little scope. Here a beggar 
was unheard of. People such as I have described in the 
Bush, or going there, were no more considered as objects of 
pity than we consider an apprentice as such for having his 
time to serve before he sets up for himself. In such cases, 
the wealthier because older settlers frequently gave a heifer or 
a colt each to a new beginner who set about clearing land in 
their vicinity. Orphans were never neglected ; and from their 
early marriages, and the casualties to which their mannner of 
life subjected them, these were not unfrequent. You never 
entered a house without meeting children. Maidens, bachel- 
ors, and childless married people, all adopted orphans ; and all 
treated them as if they were their own. 



138 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

Miss Schuyler, the "American Lady." 

Col. Schuyler had many relations in New York ; and the 
governor and other ruling characters there carefully cultivated 
the acquaintance of a person so well qualified to instruct and 
inform them on certain points. Having considerable dealings 
in the fur-trade too, he went every winter to the capital for a 
short time, to adjust his commercial concerns, and often took 
his favorite niece along with him, who, being of an uncommon 
quick growth and tall stature, soon attracted attention by her 
personal graces, as well as by the charms of her conversation. 
I have been told, and should conclude from a picture I have 
seen drawn when she was fifteen, that she was in her youth 
very handsome. Of this, few traces remained when I knew 
her; excessive corpulence having then overloaded her majestic 
person, and entirely changed the aspect of a countenance 
once eminently graceful. In no place did female excellence 
of any kind more amply receive its due tribute of applause 
and admiration than here, for various reasons. First, cultiva- 
tion and refinement were rare. Then it was not the common 
routine that women should necessarily have such and such 
accomplishments. Pains were taken only on minds strong 
enough to bear improvement without becoming conceited or 
pedantic. And lastly, as the spur of emulation was not invid- 
iously applied, those who acquired a superior degree of 
knowledge considered themselves as very fortunate in having 
a new source of enjoyment opened to them ; but never having 
been made to understand that the chief motive of excelling 
was to dazzle, or outshine others, they no more thought of 
despising their less fortunate companions than of assuming 
pre-eminence for discovering a wild plum-tree or beehive in 
the woods ; though, as in the former case, they would have 
regarded such a discovery as a benefit and a pleasure. Their 
acquisitions, therefore, were never shaded by affectation. 
The women were all natives of the country, and few had 
more than domestic education ; but men who possessed the 
advantages of early culture and usage of the world daily 



MISS SCHUYLER, THE *' AMERICAN LADVy 1 39 

arrived on the continent from different parts of Europe ; so 
that, if we may be indulged in the inelegant liberty of talking 
commercially of female elegance, the supply was not equal 
to the demand. It may be easily supposed that Miss Schuyler 
met with due attention, who, even at this early age, was 
respected for the strength of her character, and the dignity 
and composure of her manners. Her mother, whom she 
delighted to recollect, was mild, pious, and amiable. Her 
acknowledged worth was chastened by the utmost diffidence. 
Yet accustomed to exercise a certain power over the minds of 
the natives, she had great influence in restraining their irregu- 
larities, and swaying their opinions. From her knowledge of 
their language, and habit of conversing with them, some 
detached Indian famiUes resided for a while in summer in the 
vicinity of houses occupied by the nlore wealthy and benevo- 
lent inhabitants. They generally built a slight wigwam under 
shelter of the orchard-fence on the shadiest side ; and never 
were neighbors more harmless, peaceable, and obliging, I 
might truly add, industrious ; for, in one way or other, they 
were constantly occupied. The women and their children 
employed themselves in many ingenious handicrafts, which, 
since the introduction of European arts and manufactures, 
have greatly declined, — baking-trays, wooden dishes, ladles 
and spoons, shovels and rakes ; brooms of a peculiar manu- 
facture, made by splitting a birch-block into slender but tough 
filaments ; baskets of all kinds and sizes, made of similar 
filaments, enriched with the most beautiful colors, which they 
alone knew how to extract from vegetable substances, and 
incorporate with the wood. They made also of the birch-bark 
(which is here so strong and tenacious, that cradles and canoes 
are made of it) many receptacles for holding fruit and other 
things, curiously adorned with embroidery, not inelegant, 
done with the sinews of deer ; and leggings and moccasons, a 
very comfortable and highly ornamental substitute for shoes 
and stockings, then universally used in winter among the 
men of our own people. They had also a beautiful manufac- 
ture of deerskin, softened to the consistence of the finest 



140 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

chamois-leather, and embroidered with beads of wampum, 
formed like bugles : these, with great art and industry, they 
formed out of shells, which had the appearance of fine white 
porcelain, veined with purple. This embroidery showed both 
skill and taste, and was among themselves highly valued. 
They had belts, large embroidered garters, and many other 
ornaments, formed first of deer sinews, divided to the size of 
coarse thread, and afterwards, when they obtained worsted 
thread from us, of that material, formed in a manner which I 
could never comprehend. It was neither knitted nor wrought 
in the manner of net, nor yet woven; but the texture was 
more like that of an officer's sash than any thing I can com- 
pare it to. 

Marriage of Miss Schuyler. 

Miss Schuyler had the happiness to captivate her cousin 
Philip, eldest son of her uncle, who was ten years older than 
herself, and was in all respects to be accounted a suitable, and, 
in the worldly sense, an advantageous match for her. His 
father was highly satisfied to have the two objects on whom 
he had bestowed so much care and culture united. They 
were married in the year 1719,^ when she was in the eigh- 
teenth year of her age. When the old colonel died, he left 
considerable possessions to be divided among his children ; 
and from the quantity of plate, paintings, &c., which they 
shared, there is reason to believe he must have brought some 
of his wealth from Holland, as in those days people had little 
means of enriching themselves in new settlements. He had, 
also, considerable possessions in a place near the town, now 
called Fishkill, about twenty miles below Albany. His family 
residence, however, was at the Flats, a fertile and beautiful 
plain on the banks of the river. He possessed about two 
miles on a stretch of that rich and level champaign. This 
possession was bounded on the east by the River Hudson, 
whose high banks overhung the stream and its pebbly strand, 
and were both adorned and defended by elms (larger than 

^ Miss Schuyler was born in the year 1701. 



MARRIAGE OF MISS SCHUYLER. I4I 

ever I have seen in any other place), decked with natural fes- 
toons of wild grapes, which abound along the banks of this 
noble stream. These lofty elms were left, when the country 
was cleared, to fortify the banks against the masses of thick 
ice which make war upon them in spring, when the melting 
snows burst this glassy pavement, and raise the waters many 
feet above their usual level. This precaution not only 
answers that purpose, but gratifies the mind by presenting to 
the eye a remnant of the wild magnificence of Nature amidst 
the smiling scenes produced by varied and successful culti- 
vation. As you came along by the north end of the town, 
where the Patroon had his seat, you aftenvards passed by the 
enclosures of the citizens, where (as formerly described) they 
planted their corn, and arrived at the Flats, Col. Schuyler's 
possession. On the right you saw the river in all its beauty, 
there above a mile broad. On the opposite side, the view 
was bounded by steep hills, covered with lofty pines, from 
which a waterfall descended, which not only gave animation 
to the sylvan scene, but was the best barometer imaginable, 
foretelling by its varied and intelligible sounds ever}^ ap- 
proaching change, not only of the weather, but of the wind. 
Opposite to the grounds lay an island above a mile in length, 
and about a quarter in breadth, which also belonged to the 
colonel : exquisitely beautiful it was ; and though the haunt I 
most delighted in, it is not in my power to describe it. 
Imagine a little Eg}'pt yearly overflowed, and of the most 
redundant fertility. This charming spot was at first covered 
with wood, like the rest of the country, except a long field in 
the middle, where the Indians had probably cultivated maize : 
round this was a broad, shelving border, where the gray and 
the weeping willows, the bending osier, and numberless 
aquatic plants not kno^\^l in this country, were allowed to 
flourish in the utmost luxuriance ; while within, some tall syca- 
mores and wild fruit-trees towered above the rest. Thus was 
formed a broad belt, which in winter proved an impenetrable 
barrier against the broken ice, and in summer was the haunt 
of numberless birds and small animals, who dwelt in perfect 



142 JVEIV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

safety, it being impossible to penetrate it. Numberless were 
the productions of this luxuriant spot. Never was a richer 
field for a botanist ; for, though the ice was kept off, the turbid 
waters of the spring flood overflowed it annually, and not only 
deposited a rich sediment, but left the seeds of various plants 
swept from the shores it had passed by. The centre of the 
island, which was much higher than the sides, produced with 
a slight degree of culture the most abundant crops of wheat, 
hay, and flax. At the end of the island, which was exactly 
opposite to the family mansion, a long sand-bank extended : 
on this was a very valuable fishing-place, of which a considera- 
ble profit might be made. In summer, when the water was 
low, this narrow stripe (for such it was) came in sight, and 
furnished an amusing spectacle ; for there the bald or white- 
headed eagle (a large picturesque bird, very frequent in this 
country), the osprey, the heron, and the curlew, used to stand 
in great numbers in a long row, like a military arrangement, 
for a whole summer-day, fishing for perch and a kind of fresh- 
water herring, which abounded there. At the same season, a 
variety of wild ducks, which bred on the shores of the island 
(among which was a small white diver of an elegant form), led 
forth their young to try their first excursion. What a scene 
have I beheld on a calm summer evening ! There indeed 
were " fringed banks," richly fringed, and wonderfully varie- 
gated, where every imaginable shade of color mingled, and 
where life teemed prolific on every side. The river, a perfect 
mirror, reflected the pine-covered hills opposite ; and the 
pliant shades bent without a wind round this enchanting 
island ; while hundreds of the white divers, saw-bill ducks with 
scarlet heads, teal, and other aquatic birds, sported at once on 
the calm waters. At the discharge of a gun from the shore, 
these feathered beauties all disappeared at once, as if by 
magic, and in an instant rose again to view in different places. 

Philip Schuyler. 

Philip Schuyler, who, on the death of his father, succeeded 
to the inheritance I have been describing, was a person of a 



PHILIP SCHUYLER. 1 43 

mild, benevolent character, and an excellent understanding, 
which had received more culture than was usual in that coun- 
try. But whether he had returned to Europe for the purpose 
of acquiring knowledge in the public seminaries there, or had 
been instructed by any French Protestants, who were some- 
times retained in the principal families for such purposes, I do 
not exactly know, but am led rather to suppose the latter, 
from the connection which always subsisted between that 
class of people and the Schuyler family. 

When the intimacy between this gentleman and the subject 
of these memoirs took place, she was a mere child ; for the 
colonel, as he was soon after called, was ten years older than 
she. This was singular there, where most men married under 
twenty. But his early years were occupied by momentous 
concerns ; for, by this time, the public safety began to be 
endangered by the insidious wiles of the French Canadians, 
to whom our frontier settlers began to be formidable rivals in 
the fur- trade, which the former wished to engross. In process 
of time, the Indians, criminally indulged with strong liquors 
by the most avaricious and unprincipled of the traders, began 
to have an insatiable desire for them, and the traders' avidity 
for gain increased in the same proportion. 

Occasional fraud on the one hand gave rise to occasional 
violence on the other. Mutual confidence decayed ; and hos- 
tility betrayed itself, when intoxication laid open every thought. 
Some of our traders were, as the colonists alleged, treacher- 
ously killed in violation of treaties solemnly concluded 
between them and the offending tribes. 

The Mohawks, though always brave and always faithful, 
felt a very allowable repugnance to expose the lives of their 
warriors in defence of those who made no effort to defend 
themselves ; who were neither protected by the arms of their 
sovereign, nor by their own courage. They came down to 
hold a solemn congress, at which the heads of the Schuyler 
and Cuyler families assisted, and where it was agreed, that 
for the present hostiHties should be delayed, the hostile 
nations pacified by concessions and presents, and means 



144 ^^^^ YORK AMD THE JERSEYS. 

adopted to put the settlement into a state of defence against 
future aggressions. 

On all such occasions, when previously satisfied with regard 
to the justice of the grounds of quarrel, the Mohawks prom- 
ised their hearty co-operation. This they were the readier to 
do as their young brother Philip (for so they styled Col. 
Schuyler) offered not only to head such troops as might be 
raised for this purpose, but to engage his two brothers, who 
were well acquainted with the whole frontier territory, to serve 
on the same terms. This was a singular instance of public 
spirit in a young patriot, who was an entire stranger to the 
profession of arms, and whose sedate equanimity of character 
was adverse to every species of rashness or enthusiasm. 
Meantime the provisions of the above-mentioned treaty could 
not be carried into effect till they were ratified by the assem- 
bly at New York, and approved by the governor. Of this 
there was little doubt : the difficulty was to raise and pay the 
troops. In the interim, while steps were taking to legalize 
this project, in 1719 the marriage between Col. Schuyler and 
his cousin took place under the happiest auspices. 

New York. 

Soon after their marriage, they paid a visit to New York, 
which they repeated once a year in the earher period of their 
marriage, on account of their connection in that city, and the 
pleasing and inteUigent society that was always to be met 
with there, both on account of its being the seat of govern- 
ment, and the residence of the commander-in-chief on the 
continent, who was then necessarily invested with considera- 
ble power and privileges, and had, as well as the governor 
for the time being, a petty court assembled round him. At a 
very early period, a better style of manners, greater ease, 
frankness, and polish prevailed at New York than in any of 
the neighboring provinces. There was, in particular, a briga- 
dier-general Hunter, of whom I have heard Mrs. Schuyler 
talk a great deal, as coinciding with her uncle and husband 
successively in their plans either of defence or improvement. 
He, I think, was then governor, and was as acceptable to the 



NEW YORK. 145 

Schuylers for his colloquial talents and friendly disposition, 
as estimable for his pubhc spirit, and application to business ; 
in which respects he was not equalled by any of his success- 
ors. In his circle the young couple were much distinguished. 
There were, too, among those leading families, the Living- 
stons and Rensselaers, friends connected with them both by 
blood and attachment. There was, also, another distinguished 
family to whom they were allied, and with whom they lived 
in cordial intimacy : these were the De Lancys, of French 
descent, but by subsequent intermarriages blended with the 
Dutch inhabitants. Of the French Protestants there were 
many then in New York, as will be hereafter explained ; but 
as these conscientious exiles were persons allied in religion 
to the primitive settlers, and regular and industrious in their 
habits, they soon mingled with, and became a part of, that 
society, which was enlivened by their sprightly manners, and 
benefited by the useful arts they brought along with them. In 
this mixed society, which must have had attraction for young 
people of superior, and in some degree cultivated intellect, 
this well-matched pair took great pleasure ; and here, no 
doubt, was improved that liberality of mind and manners 
which so much distinguished them from the less enlightened 
inhabitants of their native city. They were so much caressed 
in New York, and found so many charms in the intelligent 
and comparatively polished society of which they made a part, 
that they had at first some thoughts of residing there. These, 
however, soon gave way to the persuasions of the old colonel, 
with whom they principally resided till his death, which hap- 
pened in 1 72 1, two years after. This union was productive 
of all that felicity which might be expected to result from 
entire congeniality, not of sentiment only, but of original dis- 
positions, attachments, and modes of living and thinking. He 
had been accustomed to consider her, as a child, with tender 
endearment. She had been used to look up to him, from 
infancy, as the model of manly excellence ; and they drew 
knowledge and virtue from the same fountain, in the mind of 
that respectable parent whom they equally loved and revered. 



146 NEIV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

The House and Rural Economy of the Flats. 

I have already sketched a general outline of that pleasant 
home to which the colonel was now about to bring his be- 
loved. 

Before I resume my narrative, I shall indulge myself in a 
still more minute account of the premises, the mode of living, 
&c., which will afford a more distinct idea of the country ; 
all the wealthy and informed people of the settlement living, 
on a smaller scale, pretty much in the same manner. Be it 
known, however, that the house I had so much delight in 
recollecting had no pretension to grandeur, and very little to 
elegance. It was a large brick house of two, or rather three 
stories (for there were excellent attics), besides a sunk story, 
finished with the exactest neatness. The lower floor had two 
spacious rooms, with large light closets : on the first there 
were three rooms, and in the upper one four. Through the 
middle of the house was a very wide passage, with opposite 
front and back doors, which in summer admitted a stream of 
air peculiarly grateful to the languid senses. It was furnished 
with chairs and pictures like a summer-parlor. Here the 
family usually sat in hot weather, when there were no cere- 
monious strangers. 

Valuable furniture (though perhaps not very well chosen 
or assorted) was the favorite luxury of these people ; and in 
all the houses I remember, except those of the brothers, who 
were every way more liberal, the mirrors, the paintings, the 
china, but above all the state-bed, were considered as the 
family teraphim, secretly worshipped, and only exhibited on 
very rare occasions. But in Col. Schuyler's family, the rooms 
were merely shut up to keep the flies, which in that country 
are an absolute nuisance, from spoiling the furniture. An- 
other motive was, that they might be pleasantly cool when 
opened for company. This house had, also, two appendages 
common to all those belonging to persons in easy circum- 
stances there. One was a large portico at the door, with a 
few steps leading up to it, and floored like a room : it was 



RURAL ECONOMY OF THE FLATS. 1 47 

open at the sides, and had seats all round. Above was either 
a slight wooden roof, painted like an awning, or a covering 
of lattice-work, over which a transplanted wild vine spread 
its luxuriant leaves and numerous clusters. The grapes, 
though small, and rather too acid till sweetened by the frost, 
had a beautiful appearance. What gave an air of liberty and 
safety to these rustic, porticos, which always produced in my 
mind a sensation of pleasure that I know not how to define, 
was the number of little birds domesticated there. For their 
accommodation, there was a small shelf built within the por- 
tico where they nestled safely from the touch of slaves and 
children, who were taught to regard them as the good genii 
of the place, not to be disturbed with impunity. 

At the back of the large house was a smaller and lower 
one, so joined to it as to make the form of a cross. There 
one or two lower and smaller rooms below, and the same 
number above, afforded a refuge to the family during the 
rigors of winter, when the spacious summer-rooms would 
have been intolerably cold, and the smoke of prodigious 
wood-fires would have sullied the elegantly clean furniture. 
Here, too, was a sunk story, where the kitchen was immedi- 
ately below the eating - parlor, and increased the general 
warmth of the house. In summer the negroes inhabited 
slight outer kitchens, in which food was dressed for the 
family. Those who wrought in the fields often had their sim- 
ple dinner cooked without, and ate it under the shade of a 
great tree. One room, I should have said, in the greater 
house only, was opened for the reception of company : all the 
rest were bed-chambers for their accommodation ; the domes- 
tic friends of the family occupying neat little bedrooms in the 
attics, or in the winter-house. This house contained no draw- 
ing-room: that was an unheard-of luxury. The winter-rooms 
had carpets : the lobby had oilcloth painted in lozenges, to 
imitate blue and white marble. The best bedroom was hung 
with family portraits, some of which were admirably exe- 
cuted ; and in the eating-room, which, by the by, was rarely 
used for that purpose, were some fine Scripture paintings. 



148 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

That which made the greatest impression on my imagination, 
and seemed to be universally admired, was one of Esau com- 
ing to demand the anticipated blessing : the noble, manly 
figure of the luckless hunter, and the anguish expressed in 
his comely though strong-featured countenance, I shall never 
forget. The house fronted the river, on the brink of which, 
under shades of elm and sycamore, ran the great road towards 
Saratoga, Stillwater, and the Northern Lakes. A little simple 
avenue of morello cherry-trees, enclosed with a white rail, led 
to the road and river, not three hundred yards distant. Ad- 
Joining to this, on the south side, was an enclosure subdivided 
into three parts, of which the first was a small hay-field, oppo- 
site the south end of the house ; the next, not so long, a 
garden ; and the third, by far the largest, an orchard. These 
were surrounded by simple deal fences. Now, let not the 
Genius that presides over pleasure-grounds, nor any of his 
elegant votaries, revolt with disgust while I mention the un- 
seemly ornaments which were exhibited on the stakes to 
which the deals of these same fences were bound. Truly 
they consisted of the skeleton heads of horses and cattle, in 
as great numbers as could be procured, stuck upon the above- 
said poles. This was not mere ornament either, but a most 
hospitable arrangement for the accommodation of the small 
familiar birds before described. The jaws are fixed on the 
pole, and the skull uppermost. The wren, on seeing a skull 
thus placed, never fails to enter by the orifice, wliich is too 
small to admit the hand of an infant, lines the pericranium 
with small twigs and horsehair, and there lays her eggs in full 
security. It is very amusing to see the little creature care- 
lessly go out and in at this aperture, though you should be 
standing immediately beside it. Not satisfied with providing 
these singular asylums for their feathered friends, the negroes 
never fail to make a small round hole in the crown of every 
old hat they can lay their hands on, and nail it to the end of 
the kitchen for the same purpose. You often see in such a 
one, at once, thirty or forty of these odd little domiciles, with 
the inhabitants busily going out and in. 



COL. SCHUYLER'S BARN. 1 49 

Besides all these salutary provisions for the domestic com- 
fort of the birds, there was, in clearing the way for their first 
establishment, a tree always left in the middle of the back- 
yard, for their sole emolument; this tree being purposely 
pollarded at midsummer, when all the branches were full of 
sap. Wherever there had been a branch, the decay of the 
inside produced a hole ; and every hole was the habitation of 
a bird. These were of various kinds : some had a pleasing 
note ; but, on the whole, their songsters are far inferior to 
ours. I rather dwell on these minutiae, as they not only mark 
the peculiarities of the country, but convey very truly the 
image of a people not too refined for happiness, which, in the 
process of elegant luxury, is apt to die of disgust. 

Col. Schuyler's Barn. 

Adjoining to the orchard was the most spacious barn I ever 
beheld, which I shall describe for the benefit of such of my 
readers as have never seen a building constructed on a plan 
so comprehensive. This barn, which, as will hereafter ap- 
pear, answered many beneficial purposes besides those usually 
allotted for such edifices, was of a vast size, at least a hun- 
dred feet long, and sixty wide. The roof rose to a very great 
height in the midst, and sloped down till it came within ten 
feet of the ground, when the walls commenced, which, like 
the whole of this vast fabric, were formed of wood. It was 
raised three feet from the ground by beams resting on stone ; 
and on these beams was laid, in the middle of the building, a 
very massive oak floor. Before the door was a large sill, 
sloping downwards, of the same materials. A breadth of 
about twelve feet on each side of this capacious building was 
divided off for cattle. On one side ran a manger, at the 
above-mentioned distance from the wall, the whole length of 
the building, with a rack above it : on the other were stalls 
for the other cattle, running, also, the whole length of the 
building. The cattle and horses stood with their hinder parts 
to the wall, and their heads towards the thrashing-floor. 
There was a prodigious large box, or open chest, in one side, 



150 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

built up for liolcUng the corn after it was thrashed ; and the 
roof, which was very lofty and spacious, was supported by 
large cross-beams. From one to the other of these was 
stretched a great number of long poles, so as to form a sort 
of open loft, on which the whole rich crop was laid up. The 
floor of those parts of the barn which answered the purposes 
of a stable and cow-house was made of thick slab-deals, laid 
loosely over the supporting beams. And the mode of clean- 
ing those places was by turning the boards, and permitting 
the dung and litter to fall into the receptacles left open below 
for the purpose ; thence, in spring, they were often driven 
down to the river, the soil in its original state not requiring 
the aid of manure. In the front ^ of this vast edifice there were 
prodigious folding-doors, and two others that opened behind. 

Certainly never did cheerful rural toils wear a more exhila- 
rating aspect than while the domestics were lodging the 
luxuriant harvest in this capacious repository. When speak- 
ing of the doors, I should have mentioned that they were 
made in the gable-ends ; those in the back equally large to 
correspond with those in the front, while on each side of 
the great doors were smaller ones for the cattle and horses 
to enter. Whenever the corn or hay was reaped or cut, and 
ready for carrying home, which in that dry and warm climate 
happened in a very few days, a wagon loaded with hay, for 
instance, was driven into the midst of this great barn ; loaded, 
also, with numberless large grasshoppers, butterflies, and 
cicadas, who came along with the hay. From the top of 
the wagon, this was immediately forked up into the loft of the 
barn, in the midst of which was an open space left for the 
purpose ; and then the unloaded wagon drove in rustic state 
out of the great door at the other end. In the mean time, 
every member of the family witnessed or assisted in this 
summary process, by which the building and thatching of 
stacks was at once saved ; and the whole crop and cattle 
were thus compendiously lodged under one roof. 

^ By the front is meant the gable-end, which contains the entrance. 



i 



OCCUPATIONS OF THE DAY. 151 

The cheerfulness of this animated scene was much height- 
ened by the quick appearance and vanishing of the swallows, 
which twittered among their high-built dwellings in the roof. 
Here, as in every other instance, the safety of these domes- 
tic friends was attended to, and an abode provided for them. 
In the front of this bam were many holes, like those of a 
pigeon-house, for the accommodation of the martin, that 
being the species to which this kind of home seems most con- 
genial ; and, in the inside of the barn, I have counted above 
fourscore at once. In the winter, when the earth was buried 
deep in new-fallen snow, and no path fit for walking in was 
left, this barn was like a great gallery, well suited for that 
purpose, and furnished with pictures not unpleasing to a 
simple and contented mind. As you walked through this 
long area, looking up, you beheld the abundance of the year 
treasured above you : on one side, the comely heads of your 
snorting steeds presented themselves, arranged in seemly 
order ; on the other, your kine displayed their meeker visages ; 
while the perspective on either was terminated by heifers and 
fillies no less interesting. In the midst, your servants exer- 
cised the flail, and, even while they thrashed out the straw, 
distributed it to the expectants on both sides ; while the "liberal 
handful " was occasionally thrown to the many-colored poultry 
on the sill. Winter itself never made this abode of life and 
plenty cold and cheerless. Here you might walk, and view all 
your subjects, and their means of support, at one glance ; 
except, indeed, the sheep, for which a large and commodious 
building was erected very near the bam ; the roof containing a 
loft large enough to hold hay sufficient for their winter's food. 

Occupations of the Day. 

Aunt ^ was a great manager of her time, and always con- 
trived to create leisure hours for reading: for that kind of 
conversation which is properly styled gossiping, she had the 
utmost contempt. Light, superficial reading, such as merely 

1 "Aunt" was the familiar title of Mrs. Schuyler. 



152 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

fills a blank in time, and glides over the mind without leaving 
an impression, was little known there ; for few books crossed 
the Atlantic but such as were worth carrj-ing so far for their 
intrinsic value. She was too much accustomed to have her 
mind occupied with objects of real weight and importance to 
give it up to frivolous pursuits of any kind. She began the 
morning with reading the Scriptures. They always break- 
fasted early, and dined two hours later than the primitive 
inhabitants, who always took that meal at twelve. This de- 
parture from the ancient customs was necessary in this family, 
to accommodate the great numbers of British, as well as 
strangers from New York, who were daily entertained at her 
liberal table. This arrangement gave her the advantage of 
a longer forenoon to dispose of. After breakfast she gave 
orders for the family details of the day, which, without a 
scrupulous attention to those minutiae which fell more prop- 
erly under the notice of her young friends, she always regu- 
lated in the most judicious manner, so as to prevent all 
appearance of hurry and confusion. There was such a rivalry 
among domestics, whose sole ambition was her favor, and 
who had been trained up from infancy, each to their several 
duties, that excellence in each department was the result both 
of habit and emulation ; while her young protegees were early 
taught the value and importance of good housewifery, and 
were sedulous in their attention to little matters of decoration 
and elegance, which her mind was too much engi'ossed to 
attend to ; so that her household affairs, ever well regulated, 
went on in a mechanical kind of progress that seemed to 
engage little of her attention, though her vigilant and over- 
ruling mind set every spring of action in motion. 

Having thus easily and speedily arranged the details of the 
day, she retired to read in her closet, where she generally re- 
mained till about eleven ; when, being unequal to distant 
walks, the colonel and she, and some of her elder guests, 
passed some of the hotter hours among those embowering 
shades of her garden in which she took great pleasure. Here 
was their lyceum : here questions in religion and morality, 



OCCUPATIONS OF THE DAY. 153 

too weighty for table-talk, were leisurely and coolly discussed, 
and plans of policy and various utility arranged. From this 
retreat they sojourned to the portico ; and while the colonel 
either retired to write, or went to give directions to his ser- 
vants, she sat in this little tribunal, giving audience to new 
settlers, followers of the army left in hapless dependence, and 
others who wanted assistance or advice, or hoped she would 
intercede with the colonel for something more peculiarly in 
his wa}^, he having great influence with the colonial govern- 
ment. At the usual hour her dinner-party assembled, which 
was generally a large one : it commonly consisted of some of 
her intimate friends or near relations ; her adopted children, 
who were inmates for the time being ; and strangers, some- 
times invited merely as friendless travellers, on the score of 
hospitality, but often welcomed for some time as stationary 
visitors, on account of worth or talents that gave value to 
their society ; and, lastly, military guests, selected with some 
discrimination on account of the young friends, whom they 
wished not only to protect, but cultivate by an improving asso- 
ciation. Conversation here was always rational, generally 
instructive, and often cheerful. The afternoon frequently 
brought with it a new set of guests. Tea was always drunk 
early here, and, as I have formerly observed, was attended 
with so many petty luxuries of pastry, confectioner^', (S:c., that 
it might well be accounted a meal by those whose early and 
frugal dinners had so long gone by. In Albany it was cus- 
tomary, after the heat of the day was past, for the young 
people to go in parties of three or four, in open carriages, to 
drink tea at an hour or two's drive from home. The receiving 
and entertaining this sort of company generally was the prov- 
ince of the younger part of the family ; and of those many 
came, in summer evenings, to the Flats, when tea, which was 
very early, was over. The young people, and those who were 
older, took their different walks while madame sat in her 
portico, engaged in what might comparatively be called light 
reading, — essays, biography, poetry, &c., — till the younger 
party set out on their return home, and her domestic friends 



154 A^£fV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

rejoined her in her portico, where, in warm evenings, a slight 
repast was sometimes brought ; but they more frequently 
shared the last and most truly social meal within. 

Winter made little difference in her mode of occupying her 
time. She then always retired to her closet to read at stated 
periods. 

The Servants of the House. 

The hospitalities of this family were so far beyond their 
apparent income, that all strangers were astonished at them. 
To account for this, it must be observed, that, in the first 
place, there was, perhaps, scarce an instance of a family pos- 
sessing such uncommonly well-trained, active, and diligent 
slaves as that which I describe. The set that were staid ser- 
vants when they married had some of them died off by the 
time I knew the family ; but the principal roots from whence 
the many branches then flourishing sprung yet remained. 
These were two women, who had come originally from Africa 
while very young : they were most excellent servants, and the 
mothers or grandmothers of the whole set, except one white- 
woolled negro-man, who in my time sat by the chimney, and 
made shoes for all the rest. 

The great pride and happiness of these sable matrons were 
to bring up their children to dexterity, diligence, and obedi- 
ence ; Diana being determined that Maria's children should 
not excel hers in any quality which was a recommendation to 
favor, and Maria equally resolved that her brood, in the race 
of excellence, should outstrip Diana's. Never was a more 
fervent competition. That of Phillis and Brunetta, in " The 
Spectator," was a trifle to it; and it was extremely difficult to 
decide on their respective merits ; for, though Maria's son 
Prince cut down wood with more dexterity and despatch than 
any one in the province, the mighty Caesar, son of Diana, cut 
down wheat, and thrashed it, better than he. His sister 
Betty, who, to her misfortune, was a beauty of her kind, and 
possessed wit equal to her beauty, was the best seamstress 
and laundress, by far, I have ever known ; and the plain, un- 
pretending Rachel, sister to Prince, wife to Titus {alias Tyte), 



THE SERVANTS OF THE HOUSE. 1 55 

and head cook, dressed dinners that might have pleased 
Apicius. I record my old humble friends by their real names, 
because they allowedly stood at the head of their own class ; 
and distinction of every kind should be respected. Besides, 
when the curtain drops, or, indeed, long before it falls, 'tis, 
perhaps, more creditable to have excelled in the lowest parts 
than to have fallen miserably short in the higher. Of the 
inferior personages in this dark drama I have been character- 
izing, it would be tedious to tell : suffice it, that besides filling 
up all the lower departments of the household, and cultivating 
to the highest advantage a most extensive farm, there was a 
thoroughbred carpenter and shoemaker, and a universal genius 
who made canoes, nets, and paddles, shod horses, mended 
implements of husbandry, managed the fishing (in itself no 
small department), reared hemp and tobacco, and spun both, 
made cider, and tended wild horses, as they call them, which 
it was his province to manage and to break. For every branch 
of the domestic economy there was a person allotted, edu- 
cated for the purpose ; and this society was kept immaculate 
in the same way that the Quakers preserve the rectitude of 
theirs, and, indeed, in the only way that any community can 
be preserved from corruption. When a member showed symp- 
toms of degeneracy, he was immediately expelled, or, in other 
words more suitable to this case, sold. Among the domes- 
tics, there was such a rapid increase, in consequence of their 
marrying very early, and living comfortably without care, that, 
if they had not been detached off with the young people 
brought up in the house, they would have swarmed like an 
overstocked hive. 

The prevention of crimes was so much attended to in this 
well-regulated family, that there was very httle punishment 
necessary ; none that I ever heard of, but such as Diana and 
Maria inflicted on their progeny with a view to prevent the 
dreaded sentence of expulsion, notwithstanding the petty 
rivalry between the branches of the two original stocks. In- 
termarriages between the Montagues and Capulets of the 
kitchen (which frequently took place), and the habit of living 



156 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

together under the same mild though regular government, 
produced a general cordiality and affection among all the 
members of the family, who were truly ruled by the law of 
love ; and even those who occasionally differed about trifles 
had an unconscious attachment to each other, which showed 
itself on all emergencies. Treated themselves with care and 
gentleness, they were careful and kind with regard to the only 
inferiors and dependents they had, the domestic animals. 

The Princes and Caesars of the Flats had as much to tell 
of the sagacity and attachments of the animals, as their mis- 
tress related of their own. Numberless anecdotes that de- 
lighted me in the last century, I would recount, but fear I 
should not find my audience of such easy belief as I was, nor 
so convinced of the integrity of my informers. One circum- 
stance I must mention, because I well know it to be true. 
The colonel had a horse which he rode occasionally, but 
which oftener travelled with Mrs. Schuyler in an open car- 
riage. At particular times, when bringing home hay or corn, 
they yoked Wolf (for so he was called), in a wagon, — an 
indignity to which, for a while, he unwillingly submitted. At 
length, knowing resistance was in vain, he had recourse to 
stratagem ; and, whenever he saw Tyte marshalling his cav- 
alry for service, he swam over to the island, the umbrageous 
and tangled border of which I formerly mentioned. There 
he fed with fearless impunity till he saw the boat approach. 
Whenever that happened, he plunged into the thicket, and led 
his followers such a chase, that they were glad to give up 
the pursuit. When he saw, from his retreat, that the work 
was over, and the fields bare, he very coolly returned. Being 
by this time rather old, and a favorite, the colonel allowed him 
to be indulged in his dislike to drudgery. The mind which 
is at ease, neither stung by remorse nor goaded by ambition 
or other turbulent passions, nor worn with anxiety for the 
supply of daily wants, nor sunk into languor by stupid idle- 
ness, forms attachments and amusements, to which those 
exalted by culture would not stoop, and those crushed by 
want and care could not rise. Of this nature was the attach- 



THE RESOURCES OF THE SCHUYLERS. 1 5/ 

ment to the tame animals, which the domestics appropriated to 
themselves, and to the little fanciful gardens, where they raised 
herbs or plants of difficult culture, to sell, and give to their 
friends. Each negro was indulged with his raccoon, his gray 
squirrel, or muskrat, or perhaps his beaver, which he tamed and 
attached to himself by daily feeding and caressing him in the 
farm-yard. One was sure, about all such houses, to find these 
animals, in which their masters took the highest pleasure. 

The Resources of the Schuylers. 
It may appear extraordinary, with so moderate an income 
as could in those days be derived even from a considerable 
estate in that country, how madame found means to support 
that liberal hospitality which they constantly exercised. I 
know the utmost they could derive from their lands, and it 
was not much : some money they had, but nothing adequate 
to the dignity, simple as it was, of their style of living, and 
the very large family they always drew around them. But 
with regard to the plenty, one might almost call it luxury, of 
their table, it was supplied from a variety of sources, that 
rendered it less expensive than could bs imagined. Indians, 
grateful for the numerous benefits they were daily receiving 
from them, were constantly bringing the smaller game, and, 
in winter and spring, loads of venison. Little money passed 
from one hand to another in the country ; but there was con- 
stantly, as there always is in primitive abodes before the age 
of calculation begins, a kindly commerce of presents. The 
people of New York and Rhode Island, several of whom 
were wont to pass a part of the summer with the colonel's 
family, were loaded with all the productions of the farm and 
river. When they went home, they again never failed, at the 
season, to send a large supply of oysters, and all other shell- 
fish, which at New York abounded, besides great quantities 
of tropical fruit, which, from the short run between Jamaica 
and New York, were there almost as plenty and cheap as in 
their native soil. Their farm yielded them abundantly all that, 
in general, agriculture can supply ; and the young relatives 



158 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

who grew up about the house were rarely a day without bring- 
ing some provision from the wood or the stream. The 
negroes, whose business lay frequently in the woods, never will- 
ingly went there, or anywhere else, without a gun, and rarely 
came back empty handed. Presents of wine, then a very usual 
thing to send to friends to whom you wished to show a mark 
of gratitude, came very often, possibly from the friends of the 
young people who were reared and instructed in that house 
of benediction. As there were no duties paid for the entrance 
of any commodity there, wine, rum, and sugar were cheaper 
than can easily be imagined ; and in cider they abounded. 

The negroes of the three truly united brothers, not having 
home employment in winter, after preparing fuel, used to cut 
down trees, and carry them to an adjoining sawmill, where, 
in a very short time, they made great quantities of planks, 
staves, &c., which is usually styled lumber, for the West 
India market. And when a shipload of their flour, lumber, 
and salted provisions, was accumulated, some relative, for their 
behoof, freighted a vessel, and went out to the West Indies 
with it. In this Stygian schooner, the departure of which 
was always looked forward to with unspeakable horror, all the 
stubborn or otherwise unmanageable slaves were embarked, 
to be sold by way of punishment. This produced such salu- 
tary terror, that preparing the lading of this fatal vessel gen- 
erally operated as a temporary reform, at least. When its 
cargo was discharged in the West Indies, it took in a lading 
of wine, rum, sugar, coffee, chocolate, and all other West 
India productions, paying for whatever fell short of the value, 
and, returning to Albany, sold the surplus to their friends, 
after reserving to themselves a most liberal supply of all the 
articles so imported. Thus they had not only a profusion of 
all the requisites for good housekeeping, but had it in their 
power to do what was not unusual there in wealthy families, 
though none carried it so far as these worthies. 

In process of time, as people multiplied, when a man had 
eight or ten children to settle in life, and these marrying early, 
and all their famihes increasing fast, though they always were 



A UNIVERSAL AUNT. 1 59 

considered as equals, and each kept a neat house, and decent 
outside, yet it might be that some of them were far less suc- 
cessful than others in their various efforts to support their 
famihes. But these deficiencies were supplied in a quiet and 
delicate way by presents of every thing a family required, 
sent from all their connections and acquaintances, which, 
where there was a continual interchange of sausages, pigs, 
roasting-pieces, &c., from one house to another, excited little 
attention ; but, when aunt's West India cargo arrived, all the 
families of this description within her reach had an ample 
boon sent them of her new supply. 

A Universal Aunt. 

Having become distinguished through all the northern 
provinces, the common people, and the inferior class of the 
military, had learned from the Canadians who frequented her 
house to call Madame Schuyler aunt. But by one or other 
of these appellations she was universally known ; and a kindly 
custom prevailed, for those who were received into any de- 
gree of intimacy in her family, to address her as their aunt, 
though not in the least related. This was done oftener to 
her than others, because she excited more respect and affec- 
tion ; but it had in some degree the sanction of custom. The 
Albanians were sure to call each other aunt or cousin as far 
as the most strained construction would carry those relations. 
To strangers they were, indeed, very shy at first, but extremely 
kind. When they not only proved themselves estimable, but 
by a condescension to their customs, and acquiring a smatter- 
ing of their language, ceased to be strangers, then they were, 
in a manner, adopted ; for the first seal of cordial intimacy 
among the young people was to call each other cousin. And 
thus, in an hour of playful or tender intimacy, I have known 
it more than once begin : " I think you like me well enough, 
and I am sure I hke you very well : come, why should not we 
be cousins ? " — "I am sure I should like very well to be your 
cousin ; for I have no cousins of my own where I can reach 
them." — "Well, then, you shall be my cousin for ever and 



l60 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

ever." In this uncouth language, and in this artless manner, 
were these leagues of amity commenced. Such an intimacy was 
never formed, unless the object of it were a kind of favorite 
with the parents, who immediately commenced uncle and 
aunt to the new cousin. This, however, was a high privi- 
lege, only to be kept by fidelity and good conduct. If you 
exposed your new cousin's faults, or repeated her minutest 
secrets, or by any breach of constancy lost favor, it was ^s 
bad as refusing a challenge : you were coldly received every- 
where, and could never regain your footing in society. 

Aunt's title, however, became current everywhere, and 
was most completely confirmed in the year 1750, when she 
gave with more than common solemnity a kind of annual 
feast, at which the colonel's two brothers and sisters, aunt's 
sister, Mrs. Cornelius Cuyler, and their families, with several 
other young people related to them, assembled. It was not 
given on a stated day, but at the time when most of these 
kindred could be collected. This year I have often heard 
njy good friend commemorate as that on which their family 
stock of happiness felt the first diminution. The feast was 
made, and attended by all the collateral branches (consisting 
of fifty-two) who had a claim by marriage or descent to call 
the colonel and my friend uncle and aunt, besides their par- 
ents. Among these were reckoned three or four grandchil- 
dren of their brothers. At this grand gala there could be no 
less than sixty persons : but many of them were doomed to 
meet no more ; for the next year the smallpox (always pe- 
cuHarly mortal here, where it was improperly treated in the 
old manner) broke out with great virulence, and raged like a 
plague. But none of those relatives whom Mrs. Schuyler 
had domesticated suffered by it ; and the skill which she had 
acquired from the communications of the mihtary surgeons 
who were wont to frequent her house enabled her to admin- 
ister advice and assistance which essentially benefited many 
of the patients in whom she was particularly interested ; 
though even her influence could not prevail on people to 
have recourse to inoculation. 



S//? WILLIAM JOHNSON. l6l 

Sir William Johnson. 

By the advice of the Schuylers, there was now on the 
Mohawk River a superintendent of Indian affairs, the impor- 
tance of which charge began to be fully understood. He was 
regularly appointed and paid by government. This was the 
justly celebrated Sir William Johnson, who held an office 
difficult both to define and execute. He might, indeed, be 
called the tribune of the Five Nations : their claims he as- 
serted ; their rights he protected ; and over their minds he 
possessed a greater sway than any other individual had ever 
attained. He was, indeed, calculated to conciliate and retain 
the affections of this brave people, possessing, in common 
with them, many of those pecuharities of mind and manners 
that distinguished them from others. He was an uncommonly 
tall, well-made man, with a fine countenance, which, however, 
had rather an expression of dignified sedateness, approaching 
to melancholy. He appeared to be taciturn, never wasting 
words on matters of no importance, but highly eloquent when 
the occasion called forth his powers. He possessed intuitive 
sagacity, and the most entire command of temper and of 
countenance. He did by no means lose sight of his own in- 
terest, but, on the contrary, raised himself to power and 
wealth in an open and active manner, not disdaining any hon- 
orable means of benefiting himself; but at the same time the 
bad policy, as well as meanness, of sacrificing respectability 
to snatching at petty present advantages, were so obvious to 
him, that he laid the foundation of his future prosperity on 
the broad and deep basis of honorable dealing, accompanied 
by the most vigilant attention to the objects he had in view; 
acting so as, without the least departure from integrity on the 
one hand, or inattention to his affairs on the other, to give, by 
his manner of conducting himself, an air of magnanimity to 
his character, that made him the object of universal confi- 
dence. He purchased from the Indians (having the grant 
confirmed by his sovereign) a large and fertile tract of land 
upon the Mohawk River; where, having cleared and culti- 



1 62 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

vated the ground, he built two spacious and convenient places 
of residence, known afterwards by the names of Johnson 
Castle and Johnson Hall. The first was on a fine eminence, 
stockaded round, and slightly fortified : the last was built on 
the site of the river, on a most fertile and delightful plain, 
surrounded with an ample and well-cultivated domain, and 
that again encircled by European settlers, who had first come 
there as architects or workmen, and had been induced by Sir 
William's liberality, and the singular beauty of the district, to 
continue. His trade with the Five Nations was very much for 
their advantage ; he supplying them on more equitable terms 
than any trader, and not indulging the excesses in regard to 
strong liquors, which others were too easily induced to do. 
The castle contained the store in which all goods meant for 
the Indian traffic were laid up, and all the peltry received in 
exchange. The hall was his summer residence, and the place 
round which his greatest improvements were made. Here 
this singular man lived like a little sovereign, kept an excel- 
lent table for strangers and officers (whom the course of their 
duty now frequently led into these wilds) ; and by confiding 
entirely in the Indians, and treating them with unvaried truth 
and justice, without ever yielding to solicitation what he had 
once refused, he taught them to repose entire confidence in 
him. He, in his turn, became attached to them, wore in winter 
almost entirely their dress and ornaments, and contracted a 
kind of alliance with them : for, becoming a widower in the 
prime of life, he had connected himself with an Indian maiden, 
daughter to a sachem, who possessed an uncommonly agree- 
able person and good understanding ; and whether ever for- 
mally married to him according to our usage, or not, contrived 
to live with him in great union and affection all his life. So 
perfect was his dependence on those people, whom his forti- 
tude and other manly virtues had attached to him, that when 
they returned from their summer excursions, and exchanged 
the last year's furs for fire-arms, &c., they used to pass a few 
days at the castle, when his family and most of his domestics 
were down at the hall. There they were all liberally enter- 



S/R WILLI AM JOHNSON: 1 63 

tained by their friend ; and five hundred of them have been 
known, for nights together, after drinking pretty freely, to lie 
around him on the floor, while he was the only white person 
in a house containing great quantities of every thing that was 
to them valuable or desirable. 

While Sir William thus united in his mode of life the calm 
urbanity of a Hberal and extensive trader with the splendid 
hospitality, the numerous attendance, and the plain though 
dignified manners, of an ancient baron, the female part of his 
family were educated in a manner so entirely dissimilar from 
that of all other young people of their sex and station, that, 
as a matter of curiosity, it is worthy a recital. These two 
young ladies, his daughters, inherited in a great measure the 
personal advantages and strength of understanding for which 
their father was so distinguished. Their mother, dying when 
they were young, bequeathed the care of them to a friend. 
This friend was the widow of an officer who had fallen in 
battle. I am not sure whether she was devout, and shunned 
the world for fear of its pollutions ; or romantic, and despised 
its selfish, busthng spirit : but so it was that she seemed 
utterly to forget it, and devoted herself to her fair pupils. To 
these she taught needlework of the most elegant and inge- 
nious kinds, reading, and writing. Thus quietly passed their 
childhood ; their monitress not taking the smallest concern in 
family management, nor, indeed, the least interest in any 
worldly thing but themselves : far less did she inquire about 
the fashions or diversions which prevailed in a world she had 
renounced, and from which she seemed to wish her pupils to 
remain forever estranged. Never was any thing so uniform 
as their dress, their occupations, and the general tenor of 
their lives. In the morning they rose early, read their prayer- 
book I believe, but certainly their Bible, fed their birds, 
tended their flowers, and breakfasted ; then they were em- 
ployed for some hours with unwearied perseverance at fine 
needlework for the ornamental parts of dress, which were the 
fashion of the day, without knowing to what use they wei^ to 
be put, as they never wore them, and had not, at the age of 



164 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

sixteen, ever seen a lady, excepting each other and their gov- 
erness. They then read, as long as they chose, either the 
voluminous romances of the last century, of which their friend 
had an ample collection, or Rollin's Ancient History, the only 
books they had ever seen. After dinner they regularly in 
summer took a long walk, or an excursion in the sledge in 
winter with their friend ; and then returned, and resumed their 
wonted occupations, with the sole variation of a stroll in the 
garden in summer, and a game at chess or shuttlecock in 
winter. Their dress was to the full as simple and uniform as 
every thing else. They wore wrappers of the finest chintz, 
and green silk petticoats ; and this the whole year round with- 
out variation. Their hair, which was long and beautiful, was 
tied behind with a simple ribbon. A large calash shaded 
each from the sun ; and in winter they had long scarlet man- 
tles, that covered them from head to foot. Their father did 
not live with them, but visited them every day in their apart- 
ment. This innocent and uniform life they led till the death 
of their monitress, which happened when the eldest was not 
quite seventeen. 

Burning of the House at the Flats. 

It was at this time (1759), when she was in the very acme 
of her reputation, and her name was never mentioned without 
some added epithet of respect or affection, that Madame 
Schuyler's house, so long the receptacle of all that was good 
or intelligent, and the asylum of all that was helpless and 
unfortunate, was entirely consumed before her eyes. 

In the summer of this year, as Gen. Bradstreet was riding 
by the Flats one day, and proposing to call on madame, he 
saw her sitting in a great chair under the httle avenue of 
cherry-trees that led from her house to the road. All the 
way as he approached, he had seen smoke, and at last flames, 
bursting out from the top of her house. He was afraid to 
alarm her suddenly ; but, when he told her, she heard it with 
the utmost composure, pointed out the likehest means to 
check the fire, and ordered the neighbors to be summoned, 



BURNING OF THE HOUSE AT THE FLATS. 1 65 

and the most valuable goods first removed, without ever 
attempting to go over to the house herself, where she knew 
she could be of no service ; but, with the most admirable 
presence of mind, she sat still with a placid countenance, 
regulating and ordering every thing in the most judicious 
manner, and with as much composure as if she had nothing 
to lose. When evening came, of that once happy mansion, 
not a single beam was left ; and the scorched brick walls were 
all that remained to mark where it had stood. 

Madame could not be said to be left without a dwelling, 
having a house in Albany rather larger than the one thus de- 
stroyed. But she was fondly attached to the spot which had 
been the scene of so much felicity, and was rendered more 
dear to her by retaining within its bounds the remains of her 
beloved partner. She removed to Pedrom's house for the 
night. The news of what had happened spread everywhere ; 
and she had the comfort of knowing, in consequence of this 
misfortune, better than she could by any other means, how 
great a degree of public esteem and private gratitude she had 
excited. The next day people came from all quarters to con- 
dole, and ask her directions where and how she would choose 
to have another house built ; and in a few days the ground 
was covered with bricks, timber, and other materials, brought 
there by her friends in voluntary kindness. It is to be 
observed that the people in the interior of New York were so 
exceedingly skilful in the use, not only of the axe, but of all 
ordinary tools used in planing and joining timber, that, with 
the aid of a regular carpenter or two to carry on the nicer 
parts of the work, a man could build an ordinary house, if it 
were a wooden one, with very few more than his own domes- 
tics. It can scarce be credited that this house, begun in 
August, was ready for aunt's reception against winter, which 
here begins very early. But Gen. Bradstreet had sent some 
of the king's workmen, considering them as employed for the 
public service while carrying on this building. The most 
unpleasant circumstance about this new dwelling w^s the 
melancholy hiatus which appeared in front, where the former 



1 66 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

large house had stood, and where the deep and spacious cel- 
lars still yawned in gloomy desolation. Madame, who no 
longer studied appearance, but merely thought of a tempora- 
ry accommodation for a life which neither she nor any one 
expected to be a long one, ordered a broad wooden bridge, like 
those we see over rivers. This bridge was furnished with 
seats, like a portico ; and this, with the high walls of the 
burnt house, which were a kind of screen before the new one, 
gave the whole the appearance of an ancient ruin. 

Madame did not find the winter pass comfortably. That 
road, now that matters were regularly settled, was no longer 
the constant resort of her military friends. Her favorite 
nieces were too engaging, and too much admired, to leave 
room to expect they should remain with her. She found her 
house comparatively cold and inconvenient, and the winter 
long and comfortless. She could not now easily go the dis- 
tance to church. Pedrom, that affectionate and respected 
brother, was now, by increasing deafness, disqualified from 
being a companion ; and Sister Susan, infirm and cheerless, 
was, for the most part, confined to her chamber. Under 
these circumstances, she was at length prevailed on to remove 
to Albany. The Flats she gave in lease to Pedrom's son 
Stephen. The house and surrounding grounds were let to an 
Irish gentleman, who came over to America to begin a new 
course of life, after spending his fortune in a fashionable 
dissipation. On coming to America, he found that there 
was an intermediate state of hardship and self-denial to be 
encountered, before he could enter on that fancied Arcadia 
which he thought was to be found in every wood. He settled 
his family in this temporary dwelling, while he went to 
traverse the provinces in search of some unforfeited Eden, 
where the rose had no thorn, and the curse of ceaseless 
labor had not begun to operate. Madame found reason to 
be highly satisfied with the change. She had mills which 
supplied her with bread ; her slaves cut and brought home 
firewood ; she had a good garden ; and fruit and every other 
rural dainty came to her in the greatest abundance. All her 



MRS. GRANT'S EARLY LIFE. iSj 

former protege's and friends in different quarters delighted 
to send their tribute ; and this was merely an interchange of 
kindness. 

Mrs. Grant's Early Life. 

It now remains to say how the writer of these pages became 
so well acquainted with the subject of these memoirs. 

My father was at this time a subaltern in the Fifty-fifth 
Regiment. That corps was then stationed at Oswego ; but, 
during the busy and warlike period I have been describing, 
my mother and I were boarded in the country below Albany, 
with the most worthy people imaginable, with whom we ever 
after kept up a cordial friendship. My father, wishing to see 
his family, was indulged with permission, and at the same 
time ordered to take the command of an additional company, 
who were to come up, and to purchase for the regiment all 
the stores they should require for the winter ; which proved 
a most extensive commission. In the month of October he 
set out on this journey, or voyage rather, in which it was 
settled that my mother and I should accompany him. We 
\vere, I believe, the first females above the very lowest ranks 
who had ever penetrated so far into this remote wilderness. 
Certainly never was joy greater than that which filled my 
childish mind on setting out on this journey. I had before 
seen little of my father ; and the most I knew of him was 
from the solicitude I had heard expressed on his account, and 
the fear of his death after every battle. I was, indeed, a little 
ashamed of having a military father, brought up, as I had 
mostly been, in a Dutch family, and speaking that language 
as fluently as my own ; yet, on the other hand, I had felt so 
awkward at seeing all my companions have fathers to talk 
and complain to, while I had none, that I thought, upon the 
whole, it was a very good thing to have a father of any kind. 
The scarlet coat, which I had been taught to consider as the 
symbol of wickedness, disgusted me in some degree. But 
then, to my great comfort, I found my father did not swear, 
and again, to my unspeakable dehght, that he prayed. A 
soldier pray ! Was it possible .'* And should I really see my 



l68 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

father in heaven ? How transporting ! By a sudden revolu- 
tion of opinion, I now thought my father the most charming 
of all beings ; and the overflowings of my good will reached to 
the whole company, because they wore the same color, and 
seemed to respect and obey him. I dearly loved idleness too, 
and the more because my mother, who delighted in needle- 
work, confined me too much to it. What joys were mine ! — to 
be idle for a fortnight, seeing new woods, rivers, and animals 
every day. Even then the love of Nature was, in my young 
bosom, a passion productive of incessant delight. I had, too, 
a primer, two hymns, and a ballad ; and these I read over and 
over with great diligence. At intervals my attention was 
agreeably engaged by the details the soldiers gave my father 
of their manner of living and fighting in the woods, &c. ; and 
with these the praises of madame were often mingled. I 
thought of her continually : every thing great I heard about 
her, even her size, had its impression. She became the heroine 
of my childish imagination ; and I thought of her as some- 
thing both awful and admirable. We had the surgeon of the 
regiment and another officer with us. They talked, too, of 
madame, of Indians, of battles, and of ancient history. Sitting 
from morning to night, musing in a boat, contemplating my 
father, who appeared to me a hero and a saint, and thinking 
of Aunt Schuyler, who filled up my whole mind with the 
grandeur with which my fancy had invested her, and then 
having my imagination continually amused with the variety of 
noble wild scenes which the beautiful banks of the Mohawk 
afforded, I am convinced I thought more in that fortnight, 
that is to say, acquired more ideas, and took more lasting 
impressions, than ever I did in the same space of time in my 
life. This, however foreign it may appear to my subject, I 
mention as so far connecting with it, that it accounts, in some 
measure, for that development of thought which led me to 
take such ready and strong impressions from aunt's conversa- 
tion when afterwards I knew her. 



INTRODUCTION TO MILTON. 1 69 

Introduction to Milton. 

A company of the Fifty-fifth was this summer ordered to 
occupy the fort at Albany. This was commanded by a saga- 
cious veteran called Winepress. My father did not exactly 
belong to this company ; but he wished to return to Albany, 
where he was known and liked ; and the colonel thought, from 
his steadiness and experience, he would be particularly useful 
in paying the detached parties, and purchasing for the regi- 
ment such stores as they might have occasion for. We set 
out in our batteatcx ; and I consoled myself for not only 
leaving Oswego, but (what was nearer my heart) a tame par- 
tridge and six pigeons, by the hopes of wandering through 
Woodcreek, and sleeping in the woods. In both these par- 
ticulars I was disappointed. Our boats, being lighter, made 
better way ; and we were received in new settlements a little 
distant from the river. The most important occurrence to 
me happened the first day. On that evening we returned to 
Fort Bruerton : I found Capt. Campbell delighted with my 
reading, my memory, and my profound admiration of the 
friendship betwixt David and Jonathan. We staid the most 
of the next day. I was much captivated with the copper- 
plates in an edition of " Paradise Lost," which, on that account, 
he had given me to admire. When I was coming away, he 
said to me, " Keep that book, my dear child : I foretell that 
the time will come when you will take pleasure in it." Never 
did a present produce such joy and gratitude. I thought 
I was dreaming, and looked at it a hundred times before I 
could believe any thing so fine was really my own. I tried to 
read it, and almost cried with vexation when I found I could 
not understand it. At length I quitted it in despair, yet 
always said to myself, " I shall be wiser next year." 

The next year (1762) came, and found me at Albany, if not 
wiser, more knowing. Again I was shut up in a fort, solemn 
and solitary. I had no companion, and was never allowed 
to go out, except with my mother ; and that was very seldom 
indeed. All the fine forenoons I sat and sewed ; and, when 



170 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

others went to play in the evening, I was very often sent up 
to a large waste room to get a long task by heart of some- 
thing very grave and repulsive. In this waste room, however, 
lay an old tattered dictionary, Bailey's, I think, which proved 
a treasure to me, the very few books we had being all reli- 
gious or military. I had returned to my Milton, which I 
conned so industriously, that I got it almost by heart, as far 
as I went, yet took care to go no farther than I understood. 
To make out this point, when any one encouraged me by 
speaking kindly to me, I was sure to ask the meaning of 
some word or phrase ; and, when I found people were not 
all willing or able to gratify me, I at length had recourse 
to my waste room and tattered dictionary, which I found a 
perpetual fountain of knowledge. Consequently, the waste 
room, formerly a gloomy prison, which I thought of with 
horror, became now the scene of all my enjoyment ; and, the 
moment I was dismissed from my task, I flew to it with anti- 
cipated delight ; for there were my treasures, Milton and the 
ragged dictionary, which were now become the light of my 
eyes. I studied the dictionary with indefatigable diligence, 
which I began now to consider as very entertaining. I was 
extremely sorry for the fallen angels, deeply interested in 
their speeches, and so well acquainted with their names, that 
I could have called the roll of them with all the ease imagina- 
ble. Time ran on : I was eight years old, and quite unedu- 
cated, except reading and plain work. When company came, 
I was considered as in the way, and sent up to my waste 
room ; but here lay my whole pleasure, for I had neither 
companions nor amusement. 

Milton introduces her to Aunt Schuyler. 

My father, not being satisfied with the single apartment 
allotted to him by the new-comers, removed to the town, 
where a friend of his, a Scotch merchant, gave him a lodging 
in his own house, next to that very Madame Schuyler who 
had been so long ray daily thought and nightly dream. We 
had not been long there when aunt heard that my father was 



INTRODUCED TO AUNT SCHUYLER. 171 

a good, plain, upright man, without pretensions, but very well 
principled. She sent a married lady, the wife of her favorite 
nephew, who resided with her at the time, to ask us to spend 
the evening with her. I think I have not been on any occa- 
sion more astonished, than when, with no little awe and agita- 
tion, I came into the presence of madame. She was sitting, 
and filled a great chair, from which she seldom moved. Her 
aspect was composed, and her manner such as was at first 
more calculated to inspire respect than conciliate affection. 
Not having the smallest solicitude about what people thought 
of her, and having her mind generally occupied with mat- 
ters of weighty concern, the first expression of her kindness 
seemed rather a lofty courtesy than attractive affability ; but 
she shone out by degrees, and she was sure eventually to 
please every one worth pleasing, her conversation was so rich, 
so various, so informing ; every thing she said bore such a 
stamp of reality ; her character had such a grasp in it. 

In the course of the evening dreams began to be talked of ; 
and every one, in turn, gave their opinion with regard to that 
wonderful mode in which the mind acts independent of the 
senses, asserting its immaterial nature in a manner the most 
conclusive. I mused and listened, till at length the spirit of 
quotation (which very early began to haunt me) moved me to 
repeat from " Paradise Lost," — 

" When Nature rests, 
Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes 
To imitate her ; but, misjoining shapes, 
Wild work produces oft." 

I sat silent when my bolt was shot, but so did not madame. 
Astonished to hear her favorite author quoted readily by so 
mere a child, she attached much more importance to the cir- 
cumstance than it deserved ; so much, indeed, that, long after, 
she used to repeat it to strangers in my presence, by way of 
accounting for the great fancy she had taken to me. These 
partial repetitions of hers fixed this lucky quotation indelibly 
in my mind. Any person who has ever been in love, and has 



172 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

unexpectedly heard that sweetest of all music, the praise of 
his beloved, may judge of my sensations when madame began 
to talk with enthusiasm of Milton. The bard of Paradise 
was indeed " the dweller of my secret soul ; " and it never 
was my fortune before to meet with any one who understood 
or relished him. I knew very well that the Divine Spirit was 
his Urania. But I took his invocation quite literally, and had 
not the smallest doubt of his being as much inspired as ever 
Isaiah was. This was a very hopeful opening ; yet I was 
much too simple and too humble to expect that I should 
excite the attention of madame. My ambition aimed at noth- 
ing higher than winning the heart of the sweet Catalina [a 
grand-niece of Madame Schuyler] ; and I thought, if Heaven 
had given me such another little sister, and enabled me to 
teach her, in due time, to relish Milton, I should have nothing 
left to ask. 

Madame Riedesel and General Schuyler. 

[Mrs. Grant's Memoirs, which disclose so much of the 
domestic life of the Americans prior to the war, do not extend 
into the war itself; but the names which she mentions are 
names which belong to American history. A glimpse of the 
Schuyler family, especially of Gen. Philip Schuyler, a nephew 
of the "American Lady," is offered in Madame Riedesel's 
journal of the events connected with Burgoyne's expedition, 
and the defeat and capitulation of his army with the German 
contingent at Saratoga. Madame Riedesel with her children, 
during the latter part of the battle, were sheltered in the cellar 
of a house near by, where they remained until the capitulation 
was consummated, when, with her children, she returned to 
the camp.] 

I again [she writes] seated myself in my dear calash ; and, 
in the passage through the American camp, I observed with 
great satisfaction that no one cast at us scornful glances : on 
the contrary, they all greeted me, even showing compassion 
on their countenances at seeing a mother with her little 
children in such a situation. I confess that I feared to come 



MADAME RIEDESEL AND GEN. SCHUYLER. 1/3 

into the enemy's camp, as the thing was so entirely new to me. 
When I approached the tents, a noble-looking man came 
toward me, took the children out of the wagon, embraced and 
kissed them, and then, with tears in his eyes, helped me also 
to alight. "You tremble," said he to me, "fear nothing." — 
" No," replied I ; " for you are so kind, and have been so 
tender toward my children, that it has inspired me with 
courage." He then led me to the tent of Gen. Gates, with 
whom I found Gens. Burgoyne and Phillips, who were upon 
an extremely friendly footing with him. Burgoyne said to 
me, " You may now dismiss all your apprehensions ; for your 
sufferings are at an end." I answered him, that I should 
certainly be acting very wrongly to have any more anxiety, 
when our chief had none, and especially when I saw him on 
such a friendly footing with Gen. Gates. All the generals 
remained to dine with Gen. Gates. The man who had re- 
ceived me so kindly came up, and said to me, "It may be 
embarrassing to you to dine with all these gentlemen. Come 
now with your children into my tent, where I will give you, it 
is true, a frugal meal, but one that will be accompanied by 
the best of wishes." — "You are certainly," answered I, "a 
husband and a father, since you show me so much kindness." 
I then learned that he was the American general, Schuyler. 
He entertained me with excellent smoked tongue, beefsteaks, 
potatoes, good butter, and bread. Never have I eaten a better 
meal. I was content. I saw that all around me were so like- 
wise ; but that which rejoiced me more than every thing else 
was, that my husband was out of all danger. As soon as we 
had finished dinner, he invited me to take up my residence at 
his house, which was situated in Albany, and told me that 
Gen. Burgoyne would also be there. I sent, and asked my 
husband what I should do. He sent me word to accept the 
invitation ; and as it was two days' journey from where we 
were, and already five o'clock in the afternoon, he advised me 
to set out in advance, and to stay over night at a place distant 
about three hours' ride. Gen. Schuyler was so obliging as 
to send with me a French officer, who was a very agreeable 



174 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

man, and commanded those troops who composed the recon- 
noitring party of which I have before made mention. As 
soon as he had escorted me to the house where we were to 
remain, he went back. I found in this house a French physi- 
cian, and a mortally wounded Brunswick officer, who was 
under his care, and who died a few days afterward. The 
wounded man extolled highly the good nursing of the doctor, 
who may have been a very skilful surgeon, but was a young 
coxcomb. He rejoiced greatly when he heard that I could 
speak his language, and began to entertain me with all kinds 
of sweet speeches and impertinences; among other things, 
that he could not believe it possible that I was a general's 
wife, because a woman of such rank would not certainly follow 
her husband into the camp. I ought, therefore, to stay with 
him ; for it was better to be with the conquerors than the con- 
quered. I was beside myself with his insolence, but dared 
not let him see the contempt with which he inspired me, 
because I had no protector. When night came on, he offered 
to share his room with me ; but I answered that I should 
remain in the apartment of the wounded oflicer, whereupon 
he distressed me still more with all kinds of foolish flatteries, 
until suddenly the door opened, and my husband and his 
adjutant entered. "Here, sir, is my husband," said I to him, 
with a glance meant to annihilate him. Upon this he with- 
drew, looking very sheepish. Yet afterward he was so polite 
as to give up his room to us. The day after this we arrived 
at Albany, where we had so often longed to be. But we came 
not, as we supposed we should, as victors. We were, never- 
theless, received in the most friendly manner by the good 
Gen. Schuyler, and by his wife and daughters, who showed 
us the most marked courtesy, as, also, Gen. Burgoyne, although 
he had — without any necessity, it was said — caused their 
magnificently built houses to be burned. But they treated us 
as people who knew how to forget their own losses in the 
misfortunes of others. Even Gen. Burgoyne was deeply 
moved at their magnanimity, and said to Gen. Schuyler, " Is 
it to me, who have done you so much injury, that you show so 



MADAME RIEDESEL AND GEN. SCHUYLER, 1/5 

much kindness?" — "That is the fate of war," replied the 
brave man : " let us say no more about it." We remained 
three days with them, and they acted as if they were very 
reluctant to let us go. Our cook had remained in the city 
with the camp equipage of my husband ; but, the second night 
after our arrival, the whole of it was stolen from us, notwith- 
standing an American guard of ten or twenty men had been 
deputed for its protection. Nothing remained to us, except 
the beds of myself and children, and a few trifles that I had 
kept by me for my own use ; and this, too, in a land where 
one could get nothing for money, and at a time when we were 
in want of many things : consequently, my husband was 
obliged to board his adjutant, quartermaster, &c., and iind 
them in every thing. The Enghsh officers — our friends, as I 
am justified in calling them ; for, during the whole of my 
sojourn in America, they always acted as such — each one 
gave us something. One gave a pair of spoons ; another, 
some plates ; all of which we were obliged to use for a long 
time, as it was not until three years afterward, in New York, 
that we found an opportunity, although at great cost, to replace 
a few of the things we had lost. Fortunately, I had kept by 
me my little carriage which carried my baggage. As it was 
already very late in the season, and the weather raw, I had 
my calash covered with coarse linen, which, in turn, was var- 
nished over with oil ; and in this manner we set out on our 
journey to Boston, which was very tedious, besides being 
attended with considerable hardship. 

I know not whether it was my carriage that attracted the 
curiosity of the people to it (for it certainly had the appear- 
ance of a wagon in which they carry around rare animals) ; 
but often I was obliged to halt because the people insisted 
upon seeing the wife of the German general with her children. 
For fear that they would tear off the linen covering from the 
wagon, in their eagerness to see me, I very often alighted, 
and by this means got away more quickly. However, I must 
say that the people were very friendly, and were particularly 
delighted at my being able to speak English, which was the 
language of their country. 



176 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

In the midst of all my trials, however, God so supported 
me, that I lost neither my frolicsomeness nor my spirits ; but 
my poor husband, who was gnawed by grief on account of all 
that had happened, and on account, also, of his captivity, 
became, by these constant stoppages, peevish in the highest 
degree, and could scarcely endure them. His health had 
suffered very greatly, especially by the many damp nights that 
he had spent in the open air ; and he was, therefore, often 
obliged to take medicine. One day, when he was very sick 
from the effects of an emetic, he could not sleep on account 
of the noise that our American guard made, who never left 
us, but were continually drinking and carousing before our 
very door ; and when he sent them a message, begging them 
to keep quiet, they redoubled their noise. I resolved to go 
out myself ; and I said to them that my husband was sick, 
and begged that they would be less noisy. They at once 
desisted from their merriment, and all became still, — a proof 
that this nation, also, have respect for our sex. 

The Temper of the Colonists. 

[Madame Riedesel's Journal recounts her experience in the 
journey which she took with her husband and the German 
troops, when they left Cambridge under orders to go to Vir- 
ginia. The name of Hessian had struck terror in the hearts 
of the country-people ; and the gentleness and sweetness of 
this refined lady seemed almost unequal to the task of secur- 
ing for herself and family common respect. But the incidents 
of the journey serve to indicate the temper of the colonists, 
especially on the border of New England and New York.] 

One day we came to a pretty little place ; but, our supply- 
wagon not having been able to follow us, we could not endure 
our hunger longer. Observing a quantity of butcher's meat 
in the house in which we put up, I begged the hostess to let 
me have some. " I have," answered she, " several different 
kinds. There is beef, veal, and mutton." My mouth already 
watered at the prospect. " Let me have some," I said : " I 
will pay you well for it." Snapping her fingers almost under 



THE TEMPER OF THE COLONISTS. Ijy 

my very nose, she replied, " You shall not have a morsel of it. 
Why have you come out of your land to kill us, and waste our 
goods and possessions ? Now you are our prisoners. It is, 
therefore, our turn to torment you." — "See," rejoined I, 
" these poor children. They are almost dead with hunger." 
She remained inflexible. But when, fmally, my three-and-a- 
half-year-old little daughter, Caroline, came up to her, seized 
her by the hand, and said to her in English, "Good woman, 
I am very hungry," she could not longer withstand her. She 
took her in a room, and gave her an Qgg. " No," said the 
good little child, " I have still two sisters." At this the 
woman was touched, and gave her three eggs, saying, " I am 
just as angry as ever ; but I cannot withstand the child." She 
then became more gentle, and offered me bread and milk. I 
made tea for ourselves. The woman eyed us longingly, for 
the Americans love it very much ; but they had resolved to 
drink it no longer, as the famous duty on the tea had occa- 
sioned the war. I offered her a cup, and poured out for her a 
saucer of tea. This mollified her completely, and she begged 
me to follow her into the kitchen, where I found the husband 
gnawing at a pig's tail ; while his wife, to my great satisfaction, 
brought out of the cellar a basket of potatoes. When she 
came back, he reached out to her his tidbit. She ate some of 
it, and gave it back ±o him in a little while, when he again 
began to feast upon it. I saw this singular mutual entertain- 
ment with amazement and disgust ; but he believed that hun- 
ger made me begrudge it him, and he reached out to me the 
already thoroughly-gnawed tail. What should I do, — throw 
it away, and not only injure his feelings, but lose my loved 
basket of potatoes "i I accordingly took it, pretended to eat 
it, and quietly threw it into the fire. We had now made our 
entire peace with them. They gave me my potatoes ; and I 
made a good supper off them, with excellent butter. But, 
besides this, they moved us into three pretty rooms with good 
beds. 

The next morning we again set out on our journey, and still, 
on every hand, drew upon us the curiosity of the inhabitants. 



178 JS/EIV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

Upon reaching the bank of the Hudson River,^ we were quar- 
tered at the house of a boatman, where we were given, as a 
special mark of favor, a half-fmished room without windows. 
We hung our bedclothes before them, and slept upon some 
straw, as our baggage-wagon was broken, and we had, there- 
fore, no beds. In consequence of this accident, also, we had, 
unfortunately, neither coffee nor tea nor sugar, which had 
often, upon this journey, constituted our only refreshment. 
Our landlady, a perfect fury, finally allowed us on the follow- 
ing morning, when our things had arrived, to breakfast in her 
room, as it was in the month of December, and we could not 
make a fire in our room. But we were unable to induce her 
to let us have a table to ourselves ; and we were not once 
permitted to sit down to hers, until she, with her children and 
servants, had finished breakfast, which consisted of what had 
been left over from the evening meal ; viz., cabbage, ham, and 
the like, with coffee and coarse sugar. They left us a filthy 
table, which we were first obliged to clean before we could use 
it ; and yet they insisted that we should put every thing in 
order, and replace the cups and saucers in a perfectly clean 
condition. At the least remonstrance, they pointed us to the 
door. She did all this to torment us ; for she was an anti- 
royalist. Unfortunately, a storm, with adverse winds, came 
up ; so that we, as the boatman assured us, could not cross 
the river without danger. The wicked woman insisted, not- 

* Mrs. RiedescI and the troops struck the Hudson at Fislikill. When they 
arrived at that place, Washington, on horseback, attended by his staff, saw them 
march by. A journal of a Brunswick officer, speaking of the American command- 
er-in-chief on this occasion, naivelv says, " He reviewed all our divisions, and was 
very polite to our officers. All that, in general, can be said on the subject of the 
said general amounts to this, that it is a pity a man of his character and talents is 
a rebel to his king." 

Mrs. Riedesel and the first division of the troops reached Lancaster in the latter 
part of December. The credulous inhabitants of that town had been hoaxed with 
the story that the King of England had made a present of the worthy town of Lan- 
caster to Gen. Riedesel, to reward him for his services, and that the latter had now 
come to take possession of the place with his troops. The irritation of the people, 
accordingly, was so roused against the German general, that serious consequences 
were at first feared ; and it was a long time before they could be convinced of the 
falsity of the report. — IV. L . Stone. 



THE TEMPER OF THE COLONISTS. 1 79 

withstanding, that we should go ; and it was only after many 
entreaties, that we obtained permission to remain two days 
longer. On the third day, the husband, with a perplexed air, 
came and announced to us that we must go. I entreated him 
to think of our danger, and at least to accompany us, as I 
should then have more courage to attempt the passage over. 
He promised to take us over himself ; and we embarked upon 
a little boat with one sail ; but, as he shoved it from the land, 
our man sprang up, and out of the boat, and left us only one 
sailor, who did not understand very well how to guide the 
tiller. We were, therefore, on account of his unskilfulness, 
and the contrary winds, driven hither and thither in the river 
for more than five hours, until, at last, after a thousand anxie- 
ties, we landed upon the opposite shore. Even then we were 
still obliged to wade up to the knees through a morass, till we 
came to the house of Col. Horborn,^ a very rich man, where 
we were to lodge. ^ 

* Probably Osbom. 

2 Mrs. Riedesel does not exaggerate the peril of her passage across the Hudson 
in this storm ; and knowing men at the time were surprised that she escaped with- 
out accident. Indeed, the treatment she received from the inhabitants of the towns 
through which she passed on this journey was such as to excite the indignation 
of Col. Troup, who had been detailed to accompany the party to its destination. 
In a letter to Gen. Gates, dated at Sussex Court House, Jan. 3, 1779, Col. Troup 
writes, " You cannot imagine what difficulties we had to overcome on our march 
hither. The people of almost every house where we stopped seemed to delight in 
rendering our stay with them as unpleasant as they possibly could. I am sorry to 
add, that they behaved very improperly to Lady Riedesel. They could not dismiss 
from their minds the cruelty with which our prisoners have been treated. Part of 
them were afraid of being plundered ; others, of being murdered by us. A young 
woman, who had been married only shortly before, wept continually, crying and 
gnashing her teeth for almost two hours running, merely because I asked her to 
let Lady Riedesel sleep in her chamber, where she kept some gowns, petticoats, 
pots, and the like. The rudeness with which they treated us, of every degree and 
kind, was carried to such a point, that, since my departure from Cambridge, I have 
always stood in the greatest fear. Lady Riedesel, the general, and his family, have 
testified to me, in every way, their esteem and kindness. A few minutes ago they 
and the children, before setting out for Easton, were in the best state of health." 
And in another letter to Gates, shortly after, he writes, " The army has made a 
stand at Middlcbrook ; and the officer who was despatched by Lord .Sterling to 
attend Lady Riedesel to Virginia assures me that they are well satisfied with their 
lodgings. In spite of his assurances, however, I cannot disengage myself from my 
private opinion, which, I am peu>iiaded, does not much differ from yours." — 
W. L. Stone. 



l8o NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

In that place I had a small room, it is true, but a good one, 
for myself, husband, children, and both my maids ; in which, 
however, the adjutants had to take breakfast, dinner, and tea. 
As I wished to change my stockings, on account of my feet 
being completely soaked, I begged our officers to go out long 
enough for me to do this. In the mean time, they went into 
the kitchen to warm themselves ; and, while there, suddenly 
the host came in, took them by the arms, exclaiming at the 
same time, " Here, you nasty Royalists ! is it not enough that 
I harbor you ? Can you not sometimes leave me in peace ?" 
He had just come in from the field, and in his coarse cloth 
garments, his long beard, and his dirty linen, looked so like a 
bear, that we trembled before him. His wife, however, was 
kind. On the following day, which was Sunday, she begged 
me to drink coffee with her after dinner. Scarcely had I 
seated myself, when the husband entered, looking much more 
respectable, as he had shaved himself, and put on his Sunday 
linen. As I could not yet forget the scene of the day before, 
I got up, and wished to leave the room. But he shut the door, 
and asked me, " Are you afraid of me ? " — " No," answered 
I, " I am afraid of no one, not even the Devil, whom you so 
resembled yesterday." — " But to-day," replied he, " I look 
much better." — "Yes," said I : "nevertheless, I desire to get 
out of the way of further discourtesies." My demeanor, 
instead of vexing, pleased him. He took me by the hand, 
and urged me to sit down again in my chair. " I am not so 
bad as you think," said he. " You please me ; and, if I had 
no wife, I would marry you." — "But," rejoined I, "how do 
you know that I would have you ? " — " That," said he, " we 
should soon see. I am very rich. The whole landscape, as 
far as you can see, is mine : my Avife is already old. I think, 
therefore, you had better remain here." From this moment I 
could have had every thing that the house afforded ; for the 
good wife was delighted to share with me all that she herself 
was accustomed to have. 



AN ENGLISH GIRL AND GEN PUTNAM. l8l 

An English Girl and General Putnam. 

[By one of the fortunes of war, which divided so many 
households, it happened that a daughter of Major Moncrieffe 
was amongst patriots in New Jersey, while her father, who 
had been with Gen. Gage in Boston, was now with Gen. 
Howe at Staten Island. Miss Moncrieffe, whose Memoirs as 
Mrs. Coghlan have an air of candor singularly alternating 
with the smirking manner of a public penitent, gives an 
account of her passage through the American lines to Gen. 
Howe's camp, which contains some curious sketches of Gen. 
Putnam]. 

I applied for protection to Mr. William Livingston, my 
first stepmother's brother, who was the governor of New 
Jersey. He behaved to me with harshness, and even added 
insult to his reproaches. Thus destitute of friends, I wrote 
to Gen. Putnam, who instantly answered my letter by a very 
kind invitation to his house, assuring me that he respected 
my father, and was only his enemy in the field of battle ; but 
that in private life he himself, or any part of his family, 
might always command his sen^ices. On the next day he 
sent Col. Webb, one of his aides-de-camp, to conduct me to 
New York. When I arrived in Broadway (a street so called), 
where Gen. Putnam resided, I was received with the greatest 
tenderness, both by Mrs. Putnam and her daughters ; and on 
the following day I was introduced by them to Gen. and 
Mrs. Washington, who likewise made it their study to show 
me every mark of regard. But I seldom was allowed to be 
alone, although sometimes, indeed, I found an opportunity to 
escape to the gallery on the top of the house, ^ where my 
chief delight was to view with a telescope our fleet and army 
at Staten Island. My amusements were few. The good Mrs. 
Putnam employed me and her daughters constantly to spin 
flax for shirts for the American soldiery, indolence in America 



* Almost every gentl'^man's house in New York has a gallery, with a summer- 
house on the top. — Mrs. Ccghlan. 



1 82 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

being totally discouraged; and I likewise worked some for 
Gen. Putnam, who, though not an accomplished Muscadin, 
like our Dilettanti of St. James Street, was certainly one of 
the best characters in the world, his heart being composed 
of those noble materials which equally command respect and 
admiration. One day after dinner the Congress was the 
toast : Gen. Washington viewed me very attentively, and sar- 
castically said, "Miss Moncrieffe, you don't drink your wine." 
Embarrassed by this reproof, I knew not how to act : at last, 
as if by a secret impulse, I addressed myself to the Ameri- 
can commander, and, taking the wine, I said, " Gen. Howe is 
the toast." Vexed at my temerity, the whole company, espe- 
cially Gen. Washington, censured me ; when my good friend 
Gen. Putnam, as usual, apologized, and assured them I did 
not mean to offend. " Besides," replied he, " every thing said 
or done by such a child ought rather to amuse than affront 
you." Gen. Washington, piqued at this observ^ation, then 
said, " Well, miss, I w^ill overlook your indiscretion, on con- 
dition that you drink my health, or Gen. Putnam's, the first 
time you dine at Sir William Howe's table, on the other side 
of the water." 

These words conveyed to me a flattering hope that I should 
once more see my father ; and I promised Gen. Washington 
to do any thing which he required, provided he would permit 
me to return to him. 

Not long after this circumstance, a flag of truce arrived 
from Staten Island, with letters from Major Moncrieffe, de- 
manding me, for he now considered me as a prisoner. Gen. 
Washington would not acquiesce in this demand, saying 
" that I should remain a hostage for my father's good behav- 
ior." I must here observe, that, when Gen. Washington 
refused to deliver me up, the noble-minded Putnam, as if it 
were by instinct, laid his hand on his sword, and with a vio- 
lent oath swore " that my father's request should be granted." 
The commander-in-chief, whose influence governed the Con- 
gress, soon prevailed on them to consider me as a person 
whose situation required their strict attention; and, that I 



AN ENGLISH GIRL AND GEN PUTNAM. 1 83 

might not escape, they ordered me to King's Bridge, where, 
in justice, I must say that I was treated with the utmost ten- 
derness. ^ Gen. Mifflin there commanded : his lady was a most 
accomplished, beautiful woman, a Quaker ; and here my heart 
received its first impression. . . . To him^ I plighted my virgin 
vow; and I shall never cease to lament that obedience to a 
father left it incomplete. 

My conqueror was engaged in another cause ; he was ambi- 
tious to obtain other laurels : he fought to liberate, not to 
enslave, nations. He was a colonel in the American army, 
and high in the estimation of his country. His victories were 
never accompanied with one gloomy, relenting thought : they 
shone as bright as the cause which achieved them. I had 
communicated by letter, to Gen. Putnam, the proposals of 
this gentleman, with my determination to accept them ; and I 
was embarrassed by the answer which the general returned. 
He entreated me to remember that the person in question, 
from his political principles, was extremely obnoxious to my 
father, and concluded by observing, "that I surely would 
not unite myself with a man, who, in his zeal for the cause of 
his country, would not hesitate to drench his sword in the 
blood of my nearest relation, should he be opposed to him in 
battle." Saying this, he lamented the necessity of giving 
advice contrary to his own sentiments, since, in every other 
respect, he considered the match as unexceptionable. Never- 
theless, Gen. Putnam, after this discovery, appeared, in all his 
visits to King's Bridge, extremely reserved. His eyes were 
constantly fixed on me ; nor did he ever cease to make me the 
object of his concern to Congress ; and, after various appli- 
cations, he succeeded in obtaining leave for my departure; 
when, in order that I should go to Staten Island with the 
respect due to my sex and family, the barge belonging to the 
Continental Congress was ordered with twelve oars ; and a 

* My father's knowledge of the country induced Gen. Washington to use every 
expedient in order to seduce him from the royal cause ; and he knew there was 
none more likely to succeed than that of attacking his parental feelings. 

s His name is never mentioned by Mrs. Coghlan. 



1 84 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

general officer, together with his suite, was despatched to see 
me safe across the bay of New York. The day was so very 
tempestuous, that I was half drowned with the waves dashing 
against me. When we came within hail of the " Eagle," man- 
of-war, which was Lord Howe's ship, a flag of truce was sent 
to meet us : the officer despatched on this occasion was Lieut. 
Brown. Gen. Knox told him that he had received orders to 
see me safe to headquarters. Lieut. Brown replied, "It was 
impossible, as no person from the enemy could approach 
nearer the English fleet;" but added, "that, if I would place 
myself under his protection, he certainly would attend me 
thither." I then entered the barge, and, bidding an eternal fare- 
well to my dear American friends, turned my back on liberty. 
We first rowed alongside the "Eagle;" and Mr. Brown 
afterwards conveyed me to headquarters. When my name 
was announced, the British commander-in-chief sent Col. 
Sheriff (lately made a general, and who, during my father's 
lifetime, was one of his most particular friends, although, 
alas ! the endearing sentiment of friendship now seems ex- 
tinct in his breast, as far as the unhappy daughter is con- 
cerned) with an invitation from Sir William Howe to dinner, 
which was necessarily accepted. When introduced, I cannot 
describe the emotion I felt ; so sudden the transition in a few 
hours, that I was ready to sink into the earth. Judge the dis- 
tress of a girl not fourteen, obliged to encounter the curious, 
inquisitive eyes cf at least forty or fifty people, who were at 
dinner with the general. Fatigued with their fastidious com- 
pliments, I could only hear the buzz amongst them, saying, 
" She is a sweet girl, she is divinely handsome ; " although it 
was some relief to be placed at table next the wife of Major 
Montresor, who had known me from my infancy. Owing to 
this circumstance, I recovered a degree of confidence ; but 
being unfortunately asked, agreeably to military etiquette, for 
a toast, I gave Gen. Putnam. Col. Sheriff said in a low voice, 
"You must not give him here;" when Sir William Howe 
complacently replied, " Oh, by all means ! If he be the lady's 
sweetheart, I can have no objection to drink his health." 'This 



THE GREAT TORPEDO, 1 85 

involved me in a new dilemma : I wished myself a thousand 
miles distant ; and, to divert the attention of the company, I 
gave to the general a letter that I had been commissioned to 
deliver from Gen. Putnam, of which the following is a copy. 
(And here I consider myself bound to apologize for the bad 
speUing of m)' most excellent republican friend. The bad 
orthography was amply compensated by the magnanimity of 
the man who wrote it.) -" Ginrole Putnam's compliments to 
Major Moncrieffe, has made him a present of a fine daughter, 
if he dont lick ^ her he must send her back again, and he will 
provide her with a fine good twig husband." The substitu- 
tion of twig for whig husband served as a fund of entertain- 
ment to the company. 

The Great Torpedo. 

[It was at this time also that one of those experiments in 
submarine warfare was tried, of which every war has so 
many illustrations. Thacher in his Journal gives the follow- 
ing account of it.] 

October [1776]. — By some gentlemen from headquarters, 
near New York, we are amused with an account of a singular 
machine, invented by a Mr. D. Cushnell of Connecticut, for 
the purpose of destroying the British shipping by explosion. 
This novel machine was so ingeniously constructed, that, on 
examination, Major-Gen. Putnam was decidedly of opinion 
that its operations might be attended with the desired suc- 
cess : accordingly he encouraged the inventor, and resolved 
to be himself a spectator of the experiment on the British 
shipping in New York harbor. Mr. Bushnell gave to his 
machine the name of American Turtle, or Torpedo. It was 
constructed on the principles of submarine navigation ; and, 
on trial, it has been ascertained that it might be rowed hori- 
zontally, at any given depth under water, and the adventurer, 
concealed within, might rise or sink as occasion requires. A 
magazine of powder was attached to it in such a manner as to 



1 Like. 



1 86 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

be screwed into the bottom of the ship; and, being now dis- 
engaged from the machine, the operator retires in safety, leav- 
ing the internal clock-work in motion ; and, at the distance 
of half an hour or an hour, the striking of a gunlock com- 
municates fire to the powder, and the explosion takes place. 
It was determined to make the experiment with this machine 
in the night, on the ship " Eagle," of sixty-four guns, on 
board of which Admiral Lord Howe commanded. Gen. Put- 
nam placed himself on the wharf to witness the result. Mr. 
Bushnell had instructed his brother in the management of 
the torpedo with perfect dexterity; but, being taken sick, a 
sergeant of a Connecticut regiment was selected for the busi- 
ness, who, for want of time, could not be properly instructed. 
He, however, succeeded so far as to arrive in safety with his 
apparatus under the bottom of the ship, when the screw de- 
signed to perforate the copper sheathing, unfortunately struck 
against an iron plate near the rudder, which, with the strong 
current, and want of skill in the operator, frustrated the enter-- 
prise; and, as daylight had begun to appear, the sergeant 
abandoned his magazine, and returned in the torpedo to the 
shore. In less than half an hour, a terrible explosion from 
the magazine took place, and threw into the air a prodigious 
column of water, resembling a great water-spout, attended 
with a report like thunder. Gen. Putnam and others, who 
waited with great anxiety for the result, were exceedingly 
amused with the astonishment and alarm which this secret 
explosion occasioned on board of the ship. This failure, it 
is confidently asserted, is not to be attributed to any defect 
in the principles of this wonderful machine, as it is allowed 
to be admirably calculated to execute destruction among the 
shipping. 

Feb. io, 1778. — I have now obtained a particular de- 
scription of the American torpedo, and other ingenious sub- 
marine machinery, invented by Mr. David Bushnell, for 
the purpose of destroying shipping while at anchor, some 
account of which may be found in this Journal. The external 
appearance of the torpedo bears some resemblance to two 



THE GREAT TORPEDO. 1 8/ 

upper tortoise-shells, of equal size, placed in contact, leaving, 
at that part which represents the head of the animal, a flue or 
opening sufficiently capacious to contain the operator, and air 
to support him thirty minutes. At the bottom, opposite to 
the entrance, is placed a quantity of lead for ballast. The 
operator sits upright, and holds an oar for rowing forward or 
backward, and is furnished with a rudder for steering. An 
aperture at the bottom, with its valve, admits water for the 
purpose of descending ; and two brass forcing-pumps serve to 
eject the water within, when necessary for ascending. The 
vessel is made completely water-tight, furnished with glass 
windows for the admission of light, with ventilators,- and air- 
pipes ; and is so ballasted with lead fixed at the bottom as to 
render it solid, and obviate all danger of oversetting. Behind 
the submarine vessel is a place above the rudder for carrying 
a large powder-magazine : this is made of two pieces of 
oak timber, large enough, when hollowed out, to contain one 
hundred and fifty pounds of powder, with the apparatus used 
for firing it, and is secured in its place by a screw turned by 
the operator. It is lighter than water, that it may rise against 
the object to which it is intended to be fastened. Within the 
magazine is an apparatus constructed to run any proposed 
length of time under twelve hours : when it has run out its 
time, it unpinions a strong lock, resembling a gunlock, which 
gives fire to the powder. This apparatus is so pinioned, that 
it cannot possibly move, till, by casting off the magazine from 
the vessel, it is set in motion. The skilful operator can swim 
so low on the surface of the water as to approach very near 
a ship in the night, without fear of being discovered, and 
may, if he choose, approach the stern or stem above water, 
with very little danger. He can sink very quickly, keep at 
any necessary depth, and row a great distance in any direc- 
tion he desires, without coming to the surface. When he 
rises to the surface, he can soon obtain a fresh supply of air, 
and, if necessary, he may then descend again, and pursue his 
course. Mr. Bushnell found that it required many trials, and 
considerable instruction, to make a man of common ingenuity 



1 88 NEIV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

a skilful operator. The first person, his brotlier, whom he 
employed, was very ingenious, and made himself master of 
the business, but was taken sick before he had an opportu- 
nity to make use of his skill. Having procured a substitute, 
and given him such instruction as time would allow, he was 
directed to try an experiment on the " Eagle," a sixty-four- 
gun ship on board of which Lord Howe commanded, lying 
in the harbor of New York. He went under the ship, and 
attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but struck, 
as he supposes, a bar of iron which passes from the rudder 
hinge, and is spiked under the ship's quarter. Had he moved 
a few inqhes, which he might have done without rowing, there 
is no doubt he would have found wood where he might have 
fixed the screw ; or, if the ship had been sheathed with copper, 
he might easily have pierced it. But not being well skilled 
in the management of the vessel, in attempting to move to 
another place, he lost the ship. After seeking her in vain for 
some time, he rowed some distance, and rose to the surface 
of the water, but found daylight had advanced so far, that lie 
durst not renew the attempt. He says that he could easily 
have fastened the magazine under the stern of the ship, above 
water, as he rowed up to the stern and touched it, before he 
descended. Had he fastened it there, the explosion of one 
hundred and fifty pounds of powder, the quantity contained 
in the magazine, must have been fatal to the ship. In his 
return from the ship to New York, he passed near Governor's 
Island, and thought he was discovered by the enemy on the 
island. Being in haste to avoid the danger he feared, he cast 
off the magazine, as he imagined it retarded him in the swell, 
which was very considerable. After the magazine had been 
cast off one hour, the time the internal apparatus was set to 
run, it blew up with great violence, throwing a vast column of 
water to an amazing height in the air, and leaving the enemy 
to conjecture whether the stupendous noise was produced by 
a bomb, a meteor, a water-spout, or an earthquake. Some 
other attempts were made in Hudson River, in one of which 
the operator, in going towards the ship, lost sight of her, and 



THE GREAT TORPEDO. 1 89 

went a great distance beyond her ; and the tide ran so strong 
as to baffle all his efforts. Mr. Bushnell being in ill health, 
and destitute of resources, was obliged to abandon his pur- 
suit at that time, and wait for a more favorable opportunity, 
which never occurred. In the year 1777 Mr. Bushnell made 
an attempt from a whale-boat, against " The Cerberus," fri- 
gate, lying at anchor, by drawing a machine against her side 
by means of a line. The machine was loaded with powder, 
to be exploded by a gunlock, which was to be unpinioned by 
an apparatus to be turned by being brought alongside of the 
frigate. This machine fell in with a schooner at anchor 
astern of the frigate, and concealed from his sight. By some 
means it became fixed, and, exploding, demolished the schoon- 
er. Commodore Simmons, being on board " The Cerberus," 
addressed an official letter to Sir Peter Parker, describing this 
singular disaster. Being at anchor to the westvvard of New 
London, with a schooner which he had taken, discovered, 
about eleven o'clock in the evening, a line, towing astern 
from the bows. He believed that some person had veered 
away by it, and immediately began to haul in. A sailor be- 
longing to the schooner, taking it for a fishing-line, laid hold 
of it, and drew in about fifteen fathoms. It was buoyed up 
by small pieces of wood tied to it at stated distances. At the 
end of the rope, a machine was fastened, too heavy for one 
man to pull up; for it exceeded one hundred pounds in 
weight. The other people of the schooner coming to his 
assistance, they drewit on deck. While the men were exam- 
ining the machine, about five minutes from the time the 
wheel had been put in motion, it exploded, blew the vessel 
into pieces, and set her on fire. Three men were killed, and 
the fourth blown into the water much injured. On examining 
round the ship after this accident, the other part of the line 
was discovered, buoyed up in the same manner. This the 
commodore ordered to be instantly cut away, for fear of 
hauling up another of the mfe?'nals, as he termed it. These 
machines were constructed with wheels, furnished with irons 
sharpened at the end, and projecting about an inch, in order 



IQO NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

to strike the sides of the vessel when hauling them up, there- 
by setting the wheels in motion, which in the space of five 
minutes causes the explosion. Had the whole apparatus 
been brought to operate on a ship at the same time, it must 
have occasioned prodigious destruction. 

Joe Bettys. 

[At a convivial meeting, at which the healths of the captors 
of Andrd were drunk, a toast was also proposed to the memo- 
ry of Fulmer, Cory, and Perkins, who achieved the capture 
of Joseph Bettys, a distinguished traitor and spy. Col. Ball, 
who presided, made the following statement respecting the 
exploit.] 

During the War of the Revolution, I was an officer in the 
New York line, in the regiment commanded by Col. Wynkoop. 
Being acquainted with Bettys, who was a citizen of Ballston, 
and knowing him to be bold, athletic, and intelligent in an un- 
common degree, I was desirous of obtaining his services for 
my country, and succeeded in enlisting him as a sergeant. He 
was afterwards reduced to the ranks, on account of some 
insolence to an officer, who, he said, had abused him without 
a cause. Knowing his irritable and determined spirit, and 
wnwilling to lose him, I procured him the rank of sergeant 
in the fleet commanded by Gen. Arnold (afterwards the dis- 
tinguished traitor) on Lake Champlain in 1776. Bettys was 
in that desperate fight which took place in the latter part 
of the campaign, between the British and American fleets on 
that lake, and, being a skilful seaman, was of signal service 
during the battle. He fought until every commissioned offi- 
cer on board his vessel was killed or wounded, and then 
assumed command himself, and continued to fight with such 
reckless courage, that Gen. Watcrbury, who was second in 
command under Arnold, perceiving the vessel was likely to 
sink, was obliged to order Bettys and the remnant of his crew 
on board his own vessel ; and, having noticed his extraordi- 
nary bravery and conduct, he placed him on the quarter-deck 
by his side, and gave orders through him, until the vessel, 



JOE BETTYS. I9I 

becoming altogether crippled, the crew mostly killed, himself 
wounded, and only two oflicers left, the colors were struck to 
the enemy. Gen. Waterbury afterwards told my father, that 
he never saw a man behave with such deliberate desperation 
as Bettys, and that the shrewdness of his management 
showed that his conduct was not inferior to his courage. 
After the action, Bettys went to Canada, turned traitor to his 
country, received an ensign's commission in the British army, 
became a spy, and proved himself a most dangerous and subtle 
enemy. He was at length arrested, tried, and condemned to 
be hung at West Point. But the entreaties of his aged 
parents, and the solicitations of influential Whigs, induced 
Gen. Washington to pardon him on promise of amendment. 
But it was in vain. The generosity of the act only added 
rancor to his hatred ; and the Whigs of the section of the 
country, especially of Ballston, had deep occasion to remem- 
ber the traitor, and to regret the unfortunate lenity they had 
caused to be shown him. He recruited soldiers for the king 
in the very heart of the country. He captured and carried 
off the most zealous and efficient patriots, and subjected them 
to the greatest suffering ; and those against whom he bore 
particular malice lost their dwellings by fire, or lives by mur- 
der, and all this while the British commander kept him in 
employ as a faithful and most successful messenger, and a 
cunning and intelligent spy. No fatigue wearied his resolu- 
tion, no distance was an obstacle to his purpose, and no dan- 
ger appalled his courage. No one felt secure. Sometimes, 
in the darkness of the night, he came by stealth upon us ; and 
sometimes, even in the middle of the day, he was prowling 
about as if unconscious of any danger. He boldly proclaimed 
himself a desperado ; that he carried his life in his hand ; that 
he was as careless of it as he should be of that of others, should 
they undertake to catch him ; that his liberty was guarded by 
his life, and whoever should undertake to deprive him of it 
must expect to mingle their blood with his. And it was well 
understood that what Bettys said Bettys meant, and as well 
ascertained, that when he came among us to perpetrate his 



192 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

mischief, that he generally brought with him a band of refu- 
gees, and concealed them in the neighborhood, to assist him 
in the accomplishment of his purposes. Still there were 
many who resolved on his apprehension, be the danger what 
it might ; and many ineffectual attempts were made for that 
purpose. But he eluded all their vigilance till some time in 
the winter of 1781-82, when a suspicious stranger was ob- 
served in the neighborhood, in snow-shoes, and well armed. 
Cory and Perkins, on information from Fulmer, immediately 
armed themselves, and, together with Fulmer, proceeded in 
pursuit. They traced him, by a circuitous track, to the house 
of a Tory : they consulted a moment, and then, by a sudden 
effort bursting open the door, rushed upon him, and seized 
him, before he had an opportunity of effecting any resistance. 
He was at his meal, with his pistols lying on the table, and 
his rifle resting on his arm. He made an attempt to discharge 
the latter, but, not having taken the precaution to undo the 
deerskin cover that was over the lock, did not succeed. He 
was then pinioned so firmly, that to resist was useless, and to 
escape impossible ; and the notorious Bettys, cheated of all 
his threats, and foiled in his most particular resolution, was 
obliged to yield himself a tame and quiet prisoner to the 
enterprise and daring of Fulmer, Cory, and Perkins. He 
asked leave to smoke, which being granted, he took out his 
tobacco, and with it something else, which when unobserved, 
as he hoped, he threw into the fire ; but Cory saw it, and im- 
mediately snatched it out with a handful of coals. It was a 
small leaden box, about the eighth of an inch in thickness, 
and contained a paper in cipher, which they could not read ; 
but it was afterwards discovered to be a despatch to the 
British commander at New York, and also an order for thirty 
pounds sterling on the Mayor of New York, should the de- 
spatch be safely delivered. Bettys begged leave to burn it, but 
was refused. He offered them a hundred guineas if he might 
be allowed to do it ; but they steadily refused. He then said, 
" I am a dead man," but continued to intercede with them to 
allow him to escape. He made the most liberal offers, a part 



A DAY WITH WASHINGTON. I93 

of which he had present means to make good ; but they still 
refused to Hsten to him. He was then taken to Albany, tried, 
convicted, and executed as a spy and traitor to his country. 
And the only reward these daring men ever received for their 
hazardous achievement was the rifle and pistols of Bettys. 
The conduct of the captors of Andre was noble ; but that of 
the captors of Bettys was both noble and heroic. Andrd was 
a gentleman, and without the means of defence : Bettys was 
fully armed, and known to be a desperado. The capture of 
the former was by accident ; of the latter, by enterprise and 
design. That of the former was without danger ; of the 
latter, at the imminent peril of hfe. Andre was a more impor- 
tant, but perhaps not a more dangerous man than Bettys. 
Both tempted their captors with all-seducing gold, and both 
were foiled. And Paulding Williams and Van Wart, though 
venerated in the highest degree by me, as having exhibited a 
trait of character honorable to the reputation of their countr}--, 
have not, in my estimation, claims to celebrity superior to 
those of Fulmer, Cory, and Perkins. 

A Day with Washington. 

[The Marquis de Chastellux, from whose travels we have 
already quoted, extended his journey to New Jersey, where 
Washington was in camp, for the sake of visiting the com- 
mander-in-chief ; and his narrative of the reception which 
Washington gave him is so simple and picturesque, that we 
give it, omitting only certain details of the journey, which 
obstruct the interest in this particular subject.] 

After riding two miles along the right flank of the army, 
and after passing thick woods on the right, I found myself in 
a small plain, where I saw a handsome farm. A small camp 
which seemed to cover it, a large tent extended in the court, 
and several wagons round it, convinced me that this was his 
Excellency's quarter ; for it was thus Mr. Washington is 
called in the army, and throughout America. M. de Lafayette 
was in conversation with a tall man, five foot nine inches high 
(about five foot ten and a half English), of a noble and mild 
13 



194 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

countenance. It was the general himself. I was soon off 
horseback and near him. The comphments were short : the 
sentiments with which I was animated, and the good wishes 
he testified for me, were not equivocal. He conducted me to 
his house, where I found the company still at table, although 
the dinner had been long over. He presented me to the 
generals, Knox, Wayne, Howe, &c., and to his family, then 
composed of Cols. Hamilton and Tighlman, his secretaries 
and his aides-de-camp, and of Major Gibbs, commander of .his 
guards ; for, in England and America, the aides-de-camp, ad- 
jutants, and other officers attached to the general, form what 
is called \\\^ family. A fresh dinner was prepared for me, and 
wine ; and the present was prolonged to keep me company. 
A few glasses of claret and madeira accelerated the acquaint- 
ances I had to make ; and I soon felt myself at ease near the 
greatest and the best of men. The goodness and benevolence 
which characterize him are evident from every thing about 
him. But the confidence he gives birth to never occasions im- 
proper familiarity ; for the sentiment he inspires has the same 
origin in every individual, — a profound esteem for his virtues, 
and a high opinion of his talents. About nine o'clock the 
general officers withdrew to their quarters, which were all at a 
considerable distance ; but, as the general wished me to stay 
in his own house, I remained some time with him, after which 
he conducted me to the chamber prepared for my aides-de- 
camp and me. This chamber occupied the fourth part of his 
lodging. He apologized to me for the little room he had at his 
disposal, but always with a noble politeness which was neither 
complimentary nor troublesome. 

At nine the next morning they informed me that his Excel- 
lency was come down into the parlor. This room served at 
once as audience-chamber and dining-room. I immediately 
went to wait on him, and found breakfast prepared. . . . While 
we were at breakfast, horses were brought ; and Gen. Washing- 
ton gave orders for the army to get under arms at the head 
of the camp. The weather was very bad ; and it had already 
begun raining. We waited half an hour ; but the general, see- 



A DAY WITH WASHINGTON. 1 95 

I'ng that it was more likely to increase than to diminish, deter- 
mined to get on horseback. Two horses were brought him, 
which were a present from the State of Virginia : he mounted 
one himself, and gave me the other. Mr. Lynch and Mr. de 
Montesquieu had each of them, also, a very handsome blood 
horse, such as we could not find at Newport for any money. 
We repaired to the artillery camp, where Gen. Knox received 
us. The artillery was numerous ; and the gunners, in very 
fine order, were formed in parade in the foreign manner ; that 
is, each gunner at his battery, and ready to fire. The general 
was so good as to apologize to me for the cannon not firing to 
salute us. He said, that having put all the troops on the other 
side of the river in motion, and apprised them that he might 
himself march along the right bank, he was afraid of giving 
the alarm, and of deceiving the detachments that were out. 
We gained, at length, the right of the army, where we saw 
the Pennsylvania line : it was composed of two brigades, 
each forming three battalions, without reckoning the light 
infantry, which were detached with the Marquis de Lafayette. 
Gen. Wayne, who commanded it, was on horseback, as well as 
the brigadiers and colonels. They were all well mounted. The 
officers also had a very military air : they were well ranged, 
and saluted very gracefully. Each brigade had a band of 
music : the march they were then playing was the Huron. I 
heard that this line, though in want of many things, was the 
best clothed in the army ; so that, his Exx:ellency asking m 
whether I would proceed and see the whole army, or go by 
the shortest road to the camp of the marquis, I accepted the 
latter proposal. The troops ought to thank me for it ; for the 
rain was falling with redoubled force. They were dismissed, 
therefore ; and we arrived, heartily wet, at the Marquis de 
Lafayette's quarters, where I warmed myself with great pleas- 
ure, partaking from time to time of a large bowl of grog, which 
is stationary on his table, and is presented to every officer who 
enters. The rain appearing to cease, or inclined to cease for 
a moment, we availed ourselves of the opportunity to follow 
his Excellency to the camp of the marquis. We found all his 



196 JVEIV YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

troops in order of battle on the heights to the left, and him- 
self at their head, expressing by his air and countenance 
that he was happier in receiving me there than at his estate 
in Auvergne. . . . 

The rain spared us no more at the camp of the marquis 
than at that of the main army ; so that, our review being fin- 
ished, I saw with pleasure Gen. Washington set off in a gallop 
to regain his quarters. We reached them as soon as the bad- 
ness of the roads would permit us. At our return we found 
a good dinner ready, and about twenty guests, among whom 
were Gens. Howe and Sinclair. The repast was in the Enghsh 
fashion, consisting of eight or ten large dishes of butcher's 
meat and poultry, with vegetables of several sorts, followed 
by a second course of pastry, comprised under the two denomi- 
nations of pies and puddings. After this, the cloth was taken 
off ; and apples, and a great quantity of nuts, were served, 
which Gen. Washington usually continues eating for two hours, 
toasting and conversing all the time. These nuts are small 
and dry, and have so hard a shell (hickory-nuts), that they can 
only be broken by the hammer : they are served half open ; 
and the company are never done picking and eating them. 
The conversation was calm and agreeable. His Excellency was 
pleased to enter with me into the particulars of some of the 
principal operations of the war, but always with a modesty and 
conciseness which proved that it was from pure complaisance 
he mentioned it. About half-past seven we rose from table ; 
and immediately the servants came to shorten it, and convert 
it into a round one ; for at dinner it was placed diagonally, to 
give more room. I was surprised at this manoeuvre, and asked 
the reason of it. I was told they were going to lay the cloth 
for supper. In half an hour I retired to my chamber, fearing 
lest the general might have business, and that he remained in 
company only on my account ; but, at the end of another half 
hour, I was informed that his Excellency expected me at sup- 
per. I returned to the dining-room, protesting against this 
supper ; but the general told me he was accustomed to take 
something in the evening ; that, if I would be seated, I should 



THE CUSTOM OF TOASTING. 1 9/ 

only eat some fruit, and assist in tlic conversation. I desired 
nothing better, for there were then no strangers, and nobody 
remained but the general's family. The supper was composed 
of three or four light dishes, some fruit, and, above all, a great 
abundance of nuts, which were as well received in the evening 
as at dinner. The cloth being soon removed, a few bottles of 
good claret and madeira were placed on the table. Every sen- 
sible man will be of my opinion, that being a French officer, 
under the orders of Gen. Washington, and, wliat is more, a good 
Wliig, I could not refuse a glass of wine offered me by him ; 
but I confess that I had little merit in this complaisance, and 
that, less accustomed to drink than anybody, I accommodated 
myself very well to the English mode of toasting. You have 
very small glasses ; you pour out yourself the quantity of wine 
you choose, without being pressed to take more ; and the toast 
is only a sort of check in the conversation, to remind each in- 
dividual that he forms part of the company, and that the whole 
form only one society. I observed that there was more solem- 
nity in the toasts at dinner. There were several ceremonious 
ones : the others were suggested by the general, and given out 
by his aides-de-camp, who performed the honors of the table 
at dinner ; for one of them is every day seated at the bottom 
of the table, near the general, to serve the company, and dis- 
tribute the bottles. The toasts in the evening were given by 
Col. Hamilton, without order or ceremony. . . . 

The Custom of Toasting. 

These healths, or toasts, as I have already observed, have no 
inconvenience, and only serve to prolong the conversation, 
which is always more animated at the end of the repast. They 
oblige you to commit no excess, wherein they greatly differ 
from the German healths, and from those we still give in our 
garrisons and provinces. But I find it an absurd and truly 
barbarous practice, the first time you drink, and at the begin- 
ning of dinner, to call out successively to each individual, to 
let him know you drink his health. The actor in this ridicu- 
lous comedy is sometimes ready to die with thirst, whilst he is 



198 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

obliged to inquire the names, or catch the eyes, of five and 
twenty or thirty persons, and the unhappy persons to whom 
he addresses himself, with impatience ; for it is certainly not 
possible for one to bestow a very great attention to what one 
is eating, and what is said to one, being incessantly called to 
on the right and left, or pulled by the sleeve by charitable 
neighbors, who are so kind as to acquaint one with the poUte- 
ness one is receiving. The most civil of the Americans are 
not content with this general call : every time they drink, they 
make partial ones, for example, four or five persons at a time. 
Another custom completes the despair of poor foreigners, if 
they be ever so little absent, or have good appetites : these 
general and partial attacks terminate in downright duels. They 
call to you from one end of the table to the other, " Sir, will 
you permit me to drink a glass of wine with you ? " This pro- 
posal always is accepted, and does not admit the excuse of the 
great Cousin, " One does not drink without being acquainted." 
The bottle is then passed to you, and you must look your 
enemy in the face ; for I can give no other name to the man 
who exercises such an empire over my will. You wait till he, 
likewise, has poured out his wine, and taken his glass ; you then 
drink mournfully with him, as a recruit imitates the corporal in 
his exercise. But to do justice to the Americans, they them- 
selves feel the ridicule of these customs borrowed from Old 
England, and since laid aside by her. 

A Portrait of Washington. 

[The person of Washington appears slightly sketched in 
the Marquis de Chastellux's account; but there is a more 
direct and studied portraiture in the Military Journal of Dr. 
James Thachcr.] 

His Excellency the commander-in-chief made a visit to our 
hospital : his arrival was scarcely announced before he pre- 
sented himself at our doors. Dr. Williams and myself had 
the honor to wait on this great and truly good man through 
the different wards, and to reply to his inquiries relative 
to the condition of our patients. He appeared to take a deep 



A PORTRAIT OF WASHINGTON. 1 99 

interest in the situation of the sick and wounded soldiers, 
and inquired particularly as to their treatment and comforta- 
ble accommodations. Not being apprised of his intended 
visit in time to make preparation for his reception, we were 
not entirely free from embarrassment ; but we had the in- 
expressible satisfaction of receiving his Excellency's approba- 
tion of our conduct as respects the duties of our department. 
The personal appearance of our commander-in-chief is that 
of the perfect gentleman and accomplished warrior. He is 
remarkably tall, full six feet, erect, and well proportioned. 
The strength and proportion of his joints and muscles appear 
to be commensurate with the pre-eminent powers of his mind. 
The serenity of his countenance, and majestic gracefulness 
of his deportment, impart a strong impression of that dignity 
and grandeur which are his peculiar characteristics ; and no 
one can stand in his presence without feeling the ascendency 
of his mind, and associating with his countenance the idea 
of wisdom, philanthropy, magnanimity, and patriotism. There 
is a fine symmetry in the features of his face, indicative of a 
benign and dignified spirit. 

His nose is straight, and his eyes inchned to blue. He 
wears his hair in a becoming cue ; and from his forehead it is 
turned back, and powdered, in a manner which adds to the 
military air of his appearance. He displays a native gravity, 
but devoid of all appearance of ostentation. His uniform 
dress is a blue coat with two brilliant epaulets, buff-colored 
under-clothes, and a three-cornered hat with a black cockade. 
He is constantly equipped with an elegant small-sword, boots, 
and spurs, in readiness to mount his noble charger. There is 
not in the present age, perhaps, another man so eminently 
qualified to discharge the arduous duties of the exalted sta- 
tion he is called to sustain, amidst difficulties which to others 
would appear insurmountable ; nor could any man have more 
at command the veneration and regard of the officers and 
soldiers of our army, even after defeat and misfortune. This 
is the illustrious chief whom a kind Providence has decreed 
as the instrument to conduct our country to peace and to 
independence. 



200 NEW YORK AND THE JERSEYS. 

Princeton and Dr. Witherspoon. 

[It was on the same journey that De Chastellux visited 
Princeton, NJ., and paid his respects to Dr. Witherspoon.] 

This town is situated on a sort of platform, not much ele- 
vated, but which commands on all sides. It has only one 
street, formed by the high-road. There are about sixty or 
eighty houses, all tolerably well built : but little attention is 
paid them ; for that is immediately attracted by an immense 
building, which is visible at a considerable distance. It is a 
college, built by the State of Jersey some years before the 
war. As this building is only remarkable from its size, it is 
unnecessary to describe it. . . . The object which excited my 
curiosity, though very foreign from letters at that moment, 
]:)rought me to the very gate of the college. I dismounted for 
a moment to visit this vast edifice, and was soon joined by 
Dr. Witherspoon, president of the university. He is a man 
of at least sixty ; is a member of Congress, and much respected 
in this country. In accosting me, he spoke French : but I 
easily perceived that he had acquired his knowledge of that 
language from reading, rather than from conversation ; which 
did not prevent me, however, from answering him, and con- 
tinuing to converse with him, in French, for I saw that he was 
well pleased to display what he knew of it. This is an atten- 
tion which costs little, and is too much neglected in a foreign 
country. To reply in English to a person who speaks French 
to you is to tell him, " You do not know my language so well 
as I do yours." In this, too, one is notunfrcquently mistaken. 
As for me, I always like better to have the advantage on my 
side, and to fight on my own ground. I conversed in French, 
therefore, with the president ; and from, him I learned that 
this college is a complete university ; that it can contain two 
hundred students, and more, including the outboarders ; that 
the distribution of the studies is formed so as to make only 
one class for the humanities, which corresponds with our first 
four classes ; that two others arc destined to the perfecting 
the youth in the study of Latin and Greek ; a fourth, to 



PRINCETON AND DR. WITHERSPOON. 20I 

natural philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, &c. ; and a fifth, 
to moral philosophy. Parents may support their children at 
this college at the annual expense of forty guineas. Half of 
this sum is appropriated to lodgings and masters : the rest is 
sufficient for living either in the college, or at board in private 
houses in the town. This useful establishment has fallen into 
decay since the war. There were only forty students when I 
saw it. A handsome collection of books had been made, the 
greatest part of which has been embezzled. The English 
even carried off from the chapel the portrait of the King of 
England, — a loss for which the Americans easily consoled 
themselves, declaring they would have no king amongst them, 
not even a painted one. 



PENNSYLVANIA. 



A Philadelphia Schoolmaster. 




IHE materials are abundant for obtaining a view of 
the social condition of what was at the time the fore- 
most city in America, and from these materials we 
propose to draw in presenting a picture of manners 
and customs ; but first we put ourselves under the personal 
lead of a very agreeable gentleman, Alexander Graydon, Esq., 
whose reminiscences extend back to a period shortly before 
the beginning of the war, at which time he was about twenty 
years of age. His more distinct recollections begin with the 
removal of his family from Bristol, Penn., to Philadelphia, 
when he was six or seven years old.] 

In the city, I lived with, and was under the care of, my 
grandfather. The school he first put me to was that of David 
James Dove, an Englishman, and much celebrated in his day 
as a teacher, and no less as a dealer in the minor kind of 
satirical poetry. To him were attributed some political effu- 
sions in this way, which were thought highly of by "his party, 
and made a good deal of noise. He had also made some 
figure, it seems, in the Old World ; being spoken of, as I have 
heard (though in what way I know not, having never seen the 
work), in a book entitled " The Life and Adventures of the 
Chevalier Taylor." As the story went, some one reading this 
performance to Mr. Dove on its first appearance, with the 
mischievous design of amusing himself at his expense, as he 
knew what the book contained, he (Dove) bore testimony to 



A PHILADELPHIA SCHOOLMASTER. 203 

the truth of the contents, with which, he said, he was per- 
fectly acquainted, exclaiming as the reader went along, " True, 
true as the gospel ! " But when the part was reached in which 
he himself is introduced in a situation somewhat ridiculous, 
he cried out it was a lie, a most abominable lie, and that there 
was not a syllable of truth in the story. At any rate. Dove 
was a humorist, and a person not unlikely to be engaged in 
ludicrous scenes. It was his practice, in his school, to substi- 
tute disgrace for corporal punishment. His birch was rarely 
used in canonical method, but was generally stuck into the 
back part of the collar of the unfortunate culprit, who, with 
this badge of disgrace towering from his nape, like a broom at 
the masthead of a vessel for sale, was compelled to take his 
stand upon the top of the form for such a period of time as 
his offence was thought to deserve. He had another con- 
trivance for boys who were late in their morning attendance. 
This was to despatch a committee of five or six scholars for 
them, with a bell and lighted lantern ; and in this " odd equi- 
page," in broad daylight, the bell all the while tingling, were 
they escorted through the streets to school. As Dove affected 
a strict regard to justice in his dispensations of punishment, 
and always professed a willingness to have an equal measure 
of it meted out to himself in case of his transgressing, the 
boys took him at his word ; and one morning, when he had 
overstaid his time, either through laziness, inattention, or 
design, he found himself waited on in the usual form. He 
immediately admitted the justice of the procedure, and,*putting 
himself behind the lantern and bell, marched with great 
solemnity to school, to the no small gratification of the boys, 
and entertainment of the spectators. But this incident took 
place before I became a scholar. It was once my lot to be 
attended in this manner ; but what had been sport to my tutor 
was to me a serious punishment. 

The school was at this time kept in Videll's Alley, which 
opened into Second, a Httle below Chestnut Street. It counted 
a number of scholars of both sexes, though chiefly boys ; and 
the assistant, or writing-master, was John Reily, a very expert 



204 PENNS YL VA NIA . 

penman and conveyancer, a man of some note, who, in his 
gayer moods, affected a pompous and technical phraseology, 
as he is characterized under the name of Parchment in a farce 
written some forty years ago, and which, having at least the 
merit of novelty and personality, was a very popular drama, 
though never brought upon the stage. Some years afterwards. 
Dove removed to Germantovvn, where he erected a large 
stone building, in the view of establishing an academy upon a 
large scale ; but I believe his success was not answerable to 
his expectations. I know not what my progress was under 
the auspices of Mr. Dove ; but having never, in my early years, 
been smitten with the love of learning, I have reason to con- 
clude it did riot pass mediocrity. I recollect a circumstance, 
however, which one afternoon took place at my grandfather's, 
to the no small entertainment of the old gentleman, who often 
adverted to it afterwards. Dove was there, and in endeavoring 
to correct my utterance (as I had an ill habit of speaking 
with my teeth closed, as if indifferent whether I spoke or not), 
he bawled out in one of his highest tones, " Why don't you 
speak louder ? Open your mouth like a Dutchman : say 



1 This Dove was a satirical poet, and has been described by Judge Peters, an 
early pupil of his, as a " sarcastical and ill-tempered doggerelizer, who was but 
ironically Dove ; for his temper was that of a hawk, and his pen the beak of a fal- 
con pouncing on innocent prey." 

He became, says Watson, a teacher of languages in the Philadelphia Academy, 
and was cfiiefly conspicuous for the part he took in the politics of the da}^ and by 
his caustic rhymes in ridicule of his opponents. He wrote poetical illustrations to 
accompany the caricatures which abounded in his time, and was himself, in turn, a 
rich subject for the caricaturist Watson records a characteristic anecdote of 
Charles Thomson, secretary to the Congress of 1776. When young, Thomson 
resided in the family of Dove, who, with his wife, was much addicted to scandal, a 
propensity in the highest degree offensive to the honorable nature of the future 
secretary. Wishing to leave them, but dreading their tongues, he adopted an in- 
genious expedient to prevent their injurious exercise. He gravely inquired of 
them one evening, if his conduct as a boarder had been satisfactory to them. 
They promptly replied in the aflSrmative. " Would you, then," asked Thomson, 
"be willing to give me a certificate to that effect ?" — " Oh, certainly 1 " A cer- 
tificate was accordingly given ; and the next day he parted from them in peace. — 
y. S. LUtelL 



MR, JOHN BEVERIDGE. 205 

Mr. John Beveridge. 

I have said that I entered the Latin School. The person 
whose pupil I was consequently to become was Mr. John 
Beveridge, a native of Scotland, who retained the smack of 
his vernacular tongue in its primitive purity. His acquaint- 
ance with the language he taught was, I believe, justly 
deemed to be very accurate and profound; but, as to his 
other acquirements (after excepting the game of backgammon, 
in which he was said to excel), truth will not warrant me in 
saying a great deal. He was, however, diligent and laborious 
in his attention to his school ; and had he possessed the 
faculty of making himself beloved by the scholars, and of 
exciting their emulation and exertion, nothing would have 
been wanting in him to an entii-e qualification for his office. 
But, unfortunately, he had no dignity of character, and was 
no less destitute of the art of making himself respected than 
beloved. Though not, perhaps, to be complained of as in- 
tolerably severe, he yet made a pretty free use of the rattan 
and the ferule, but to very little purpose. He was, in short, no 
disciplinarian, and consequently very unequal to the manage- 
ment of seventy or eighty boys, many of whom were superla- 
tively pickle and unruly. He was assisted, indeed, by two 
ushers, who eased him in the burden of teaching, but who, in 
matters of discipline, seemed disinclined to interfere, and dis- 
posed to consider themselves rather as subjects than rulers. 
I have seen them slyly slip out of the way when the principal 
was entering upon the job of capitally punishing a boy, who, 
from his size, would be likely to make resistance. For this 
had become nearly a matter of course ; and poor Beveridge, 
who was diminutive in his stature, and neither young nor 
vigorous, after exhausting himself in the vain attempt to 
denude the delinquent, was generally glad to compound for a 
few strokes over his clothes, on any part that was accessible. 
He had, indeed, so frequently been foiled, that his birch at 
length was rarely brought forth, and might truly be said to 
have lost its terrors : it was tanquam gladiuvt in vagina 



206 PENNS YL VANIA, 

repositiun. He iiK^emnified himself, however, by a redoubled 
use of his rattan. 

So entire was the want of respect towards him, and so liable 
was he to be imposed upon, that one of the larger boys, for a 
wager, once pulled off his wig, which he effected by suddenly 
twitching it from his head under pretence of brushing from it 
a spider ; and the unequivocal insult was only resented by the 
peevish exclamation of " Hoot inon ! " 

Various were the rogueries that were played upon him ; but 
the most audacious of all was the following. At the hour of 
convening in the afternoon (that being found the most con- 
venient, from the circumstance of Mr. Beveridge being usually 
a little beyond the time), the bell having rung, the ushers 
being at their posts, and the scholars arranged in their classes, 
three or four of the conspirators conceal themselves without 
for the purpose of observing the motions of their victim. He 
arrives, enters the school, and is permitted to proceed until he 
is supposed to have nearly reached his chair at the upper end 
of the room, when instantly the door and every window-shutter 
is closed. Now, shrouded in utter darkness, the most hideous 
yells that can be conceived are sent forth from at least 
threescore of throats ; and Ovids and Virgils and Horaces, 
together with the more heavy metal of dictionaries, whether of 
Cole, of Young, or of Ainsworth, are hurled without remorse 
at the head of the astonished preceptor, who, on his side, 
groping and crawHng under cover of the forms, makes the 
best of his way to the door. When attained, and light re- 
stored, a death-like silence ensues. Every boy is at his lesson : 
no one has had a hand or a voice in the recent atrocity. 
What, then, is to be done ? and who shall be chastised .'* 

Sccvit atrox Vohcens, nee tell conspiclt tisquam 
Auctorejn, nee quo se a7'dens hnmlttere posslt. 

Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and, gazing round, 
Descries not him who aimed the fatal wound, 
Nor knows to fix revenge. 



MR, JOHN BEVERIDGE. 20/ 

This most intolerable outrage, from its succeeding beyond 
expectation, and being entirely to the taste of the school, had 
a run of several days, and was only then put a stop to by the 
interference of the faculty^ who decreed the most exemplary 
punishment on those who should be found offending in the 
premises, and by taking measures to prevent a farther repe- 
tition of the enormity. 

In the year 1765, Mr. Beveridge published by subscription 
a small collection of Latin poems. Of their general merit, I 
presume not to judge ; but I think I have heard they were not 
much commended by the British reviewers. The latinity, 
probably, is pure, the prosody correct, the versification suffi- 
ciently easy and sounding, and such as might serve to evince an 
intimate acquaintance with the classics of ancient Rome ; but 
I should doubt their possessing much of the soul of poetry. 
One of them is neither more nor less than an humble petition 
in hexameters, and certainly a very curious specimen of pe- 
dantic mendicity. It is addressed to Thomas Penn, the pro- 
prietary of Pennsylvania ; and the poet very modestly proposes 
that he should bestow upon him a few of his acres, innumera- 
ble, he observes, as the sands of the Delaware ; in return for 
which, his verse shall do its best to confer immortal fame upon 
the donor. By way of further inducement to the gift, he sets 
before his excellency the usual ingratitude of an enriched and 
unknown posterity on the one hand, and, on the other, the ad- 
vantage which Ajax, yEneas, and Maecenas, derived from the 
Muses of Homer, of Virgil, and Horace. I never heard, how- 
ever, that the poet was the better for his application. I rather 
think that the proprietor was of opinion there was a want of 
reciprocity in the proposal, and that, whatever the carme7i 
Horatii vel Maronis might have been worth, that of Mr. Bev- 
eridge did not amount to a very valuable consideration. 

But, after all, it is perhaps too much to expect from a modern, 
— good Latin, good poetry, and good sense, all at the same 
time. 



208 PENNS YL VA NIA. 

The Paxton Boys. 

Of all the cities in the world, Philadelphia was, for its size, 
perhaps one of the most peaceable and unwarHke ; and Grant ^ 
was not wholly without data for supposing, that, with an incon- 
siderable force, he could make his way, at least through Penn- 
sylvania. So much had the manners of the Quakers, and its 
long exemption from hostile alarm, nourished this disposition, 
that a mere handful of lawless frontier-men was found suffi- 
cient to throw the capital into consternation. The unpunished 
and even applauded massacre of certain Indians at Lancaster, 
who, in the jail of that town, had vainly flattered themselves 
that they possessed an asylum, had so encouraged their mur- 
derers, who called themselves " Paxton Boys," that they 
threatened to perpetrate the like enormity upon a number of 
other Indians under the protection of government in the me- 
tropolis ; and for this purpose they at length put themselves 
in arms, and actually began their march. Their force, though 
known to be small in the beginning, continually increased as 
it went along ; the vires acqtiirit eimdo being no less the attri- 
bute of terror than of fame. Between the two, the invaders 
were augumented to some thousands by the time they had ap- 
proached within a day or two's journey of their object. To 
the credit, however, of the Philadelphians, every possible effort 
was made to frustrate the inhuman design of the banditti ; and 
the Quakers, as well as others who had proper feelings on the 
occasion, exerted themselves for the protection of the terri- 
fied Indians, who were shut up in the barracks, and for whose 
immediate defence part of a British regiment of foot was sta- 
tioned there. But the citadel, or place of arms, was in the very 
heart of the city, all around and within the old court-house and 
Friends' meeting-house. Here stood the artillery, under the 
command of Capt. Loxley, a very honest though little, dingy- 
looking m.an, with regimentals considerably war-worn or tar- 
nished, — a very salamander, or fire-drake^ in the public 

* Gen. Grant of the British army probably. 



THE PAX TON BOYS. 209 

estimation, whose vital air was deemed the fume of sulphure- 
ous explosion, and who, by whatever means he had acquired 
his science, was always put foremost when great guns were in 
question. Here it was that the grand stand was to be made 
against the approaching invaders, who, if rumor might be 
credited, had now extended their murderous purposes beyond 
the savages, to their patrons and abettors. Hence the cause 
had materially changed its complexion ; and, instead of resting 
on a basis of mere humanity and plighted faith, it had emphati- 
cally become the cause of self-preservation, little doubt being 
entertained that the capital would be sacked, in case of the 
predominance of the barbarous foe. In this state of conster- 
nation and dismay, all business was laid aside for the more 
important occupation of arms. Drums, colors, rusty halberds 
and bayonets, were brought forth from their lurking-places ; 
and as every good citizen who had a sword had girded it to his 
thigh, so everyone who had a gun had placed it on his shoulder: 
in short, bella^ horrida bella (war, destructive war), was about 
to desolate the hitherto peaceful streets of Philadelphia. 

But, with all this, the old proverb was not belied ; and the 
benign influence of this /// ivitid was sensibly felt by us 
schoolboys. The dreaded event was overbalanced in our 
minds by the holidays which were the effect of it ; and, so far 
as I can recall my feelings on the occasion, they very much 
preponderated on the side of hilarity. 

As the defensive army was without eyes, it had, of course, 
no better information than such as common bruit could sup- 
ply ; and hence many untoward consequences ensued. One 
was the near extinction of a troop of mounted butchers from 
Germantown, who, scampering down Market Street with the 
best intentions in th ^ world, were announced as the Paxton 
Boys, and, by this mistaivO, very narrowly escaped a greeting 
from the rude throats of Capt. Loxley's artillery. The word 
" Fire ! " was already quivering on his lips ; but Pallas came 
in shape of something, and suppressed it. Another emanation 
from this unmilitary defect of vision was the curious order, 
that every householder in Market Street should affix one or 
14 



2 I O PENNS YL VA NIA. 

more candles at his door before daylight, on the morning of 
the day on which, from some sufficient reason no doubt, it 
had been elicited that the enemy would full surely make his 
attack, and by no other than this identical route, on the cita- 
del. Whether this illumination wa-s merely intended to pre- 
vent surprise, or whether it was that the commander who 
enjoined it was determined, like Ajax, that, if perish he must, 
he would perish in the face of day, I do not know ; but cer- 
tain it is that such a decree went forth, and was religiously 
complied with. This I can affirm from the circumstance of 
having resided in Market Street at the time. The sage pre- 
caution, however, proved superfluous, although, with respect 
merely to the nearness of the redoubted invaders, there was 
color for it. It was soon ascertained that they had reached 
Germantown ; and a deputation of the least obnoxious citi- 
zens, with the olive-branch, was sent out to meet them. After 
a parley of some days, an armistice was agreed upon, and 
peace at length so effectually restored, that the formidable 
stragglers who had excited so much terror were permitted, 
as friends, to enter the city. 

Party spirit, at this time, ran very high ; and the Paxton 
men were not without a number of clamorous advocates, who 
entirely justified them on the score of their sufferings from 
the savages, who, during the war, had made incursions upon 
them, and murdered their kindred and friends. It was even 
alleged that the pretended friendly Indians had been treach- 
erous, having always maintained an understanding with the 
hostile ones, and frequently conducted them into our settle- 
ments. But this rested on mere suspicion, without a shadow 
of proof that ever I heard of. It was enough, however, to 
throw it out to obtain partisans to the opinion ; and whether 
the Paxton men were " more sinned against than sinning " 
was a question which was agitated with so much ardor and 
acrimony, that even the schoolboys became warmly engaged 
in the contest. For my own part, though of the rehgious 
sect which had been long warring with the Quakers, I was 
entirely on the side of humanity and public duty (or in this, 



OGLE AND FRIEND. 211 

do I beg the question ?), and perfectly recollect my indigna- 
tion at the sentiments of one of the ushers who was on the 
opposite side. His name was Davis, and he was really a 
kind, good-natured man; yet, from the dominion of his reli- 
gious or political prejudices, he had been led to apologize for, 
if not to approve of, an outrage which was a disgrace to a 
civilized people. He had been among the riflemen on their 
coming into the city, and talking with them upon the subject 
of the Lancaster massacre, and particularly of the killing 
of Will Sock, the most distinguished of the victims, related, 
with an air of approbation, this rhodomontade of the real or 
pretended murderer. " I," said he, " am the man who killed 
Will Sock: this is the arm that stabbed him to the heart; 
and I glory in it." Notwithstanding the fine coloring of Mr. 
Davis, young as I was, I am happy in being able to say that 
I felt a just contempt for the inglorious boaster, who appeared 
to me in the light of a cowardly ruffian, instead of a hero.' 
There was much political scribbling on this occasion ; and, 
among the pamphleteers of the day, Dr. Franklin drew his 
pen in behalf of the Indians, giving a very affecting narrative 
of the transaction at Lancaster, which, no doubt, had its 
effect in regulating public opinion, and thereby putting a 
stop to the farther violence that was meditated. 

Ogle and Friend. 

But it was not alone by hostile alarms that the good people 
of Philadelphia were annoyed. Their tranquillity had been 
likewise disturbed by the uncitizenlike conduct of a pair of 
British officers, who, for want of something better to do, had 
plunged themselves into an excess of intemperance, and, in 
the plenitude of wine and hilarity, paraded the streets at all 
hours, — 

A la clarte de cieux dans 1' ombre de la nuit, 

to the no small terror of the sober and the timid. The firm 
of this duumvirate was Ogle and Friend, names always coupled 
together, like those of Castor and Pollux, or of Pylades and 



212 . FEJVNS YL VA NJA. 

Orestes ; but the cement which connected thein was scarcely 
so pure as that which had united those heroes of antiquity. It 
could hardly be called friendship, but was rather a confederacy 
in debauchery and riot, exemplified in a never-ending round 
of frolic and fun. It was related of Ogle, that, upon hiring a 
servant, he had stipulated with him that he should never get 
drunk but when his master was sober. But the fellow some 
time after requested his discharge, giving for his reason, that 
he had in truth no dislike to a social glass himself ; but it had 
so happened, that the terms of the agreement had absolutely 
cut him off from any chance of ever indulging his propensity. 
Many are the pranks I have heard ascribed, either conjointly 
or separately, to this par nobile fratnim. That of Ogle's 
first appearance in Philadelphia has been thus related to 
me by Mr. Will Richards the apothecary, who, it is well 
known, was, from his size and manner, as fine a figure for 
Falstaff as the imagination can conceive. " One afternoon," 
said he, " an officer in full regimentals, booted and spurred, 
with a whip in his hand, spattered with mud from top to toe, 
and reeling under the effects of an overdose of liquor, made 
his entrance into the coffee-house, in a box of which I was 
sitting, perusing a newspaper. He was probably under the 
impression that every man he was to meet would be a Quaker, 
and that a Quaker was no other than a licensed Simon Pure 
for his amusement ; for no sooner had he entered, than throw- 
ing his arms about the neck of Mr. Joshua Fisher with the 
exclamation of, " Ah, my dear Broadbrim, give me a kiss," 
he began to slaver him most lovingly. As Joshua was a good 
deal embarrassed by the salutation, and wholly unable to 
parry the assault, or shake off the fond intruder, I interfered 
in his behalf, and effected a separation, when Ogle, turning to 
me, cried out, " Ha, my jolly fellow ! give me a smack of your 
fat chops," and immediately fell to hugging and kissing me, 
as he had done Fisher. But, instead of the coyness he had 
shown, I hugged and kissed in my turn as hard as I was able, 
until my weight at length brought Ogle to the floor, and my- 
self on top of him. Nevertheless, I kept kissing away, until, 



OGLE AND FRIEND, 21 3 

nearly mashed and suffocated, he exclaimed, ' For Heaven's 
sake let me up, let me up, or you will smother me ! ' Having 
sufficiently tormented him, and avenged Joshua Fisher, I 
permitted him to rise, when he seemed a good deal sobered ; 
and finding that I was neither a Quaker, nor wholly ignorant 
of the world, he evinced some respect for me, took a seat with 
me in a box, and, entering into conversation, soon discovered, 
that, however he might be disguised by intoxication, he well 
knew what belonged to the character of a gentleman. This," 
said Richards, " was the commencement of an acquaintance 
between us ; and Capt. Ogle sometimes called to see me, 
upon which occasions he always behaved with the utmost 
propriety and decorum." 

This same coffee-house, the only one indeed in the city, 
was also the scene of another affray by Ogle and Friend in 
conjunction. I know not what particular acts of mischief 
they had been guilty of ; but they were very drunk, and their 
conduct so extremely disquieting and insulting to the peacea- 
ble citizens there assembled, that, being no longer able to 
endure it, it was judged expedient to commit them ; and Mr. 
Chew, happening to be there, undertook, in virtue probably of 
his office of recorder, to write their commitment. But Ogle, 
facetiously jogging his elbow, and interrupting him with a 
repetition of the pitiful interjection of "y^/z, now, Mr. Cheiu f^ 
he was driven from his gravity, and obliged to throw away the 

pen. It was then taken up by Alderman M n with a 

determination to go through with the business, when the 
culprits reeling round him, and Oc;le in particular, hanging 
over his shoulder, and reading after him as he wrote, at length 
with irresistible effect hit upon an unfortunate oversight of 
the alderman. "Ay," says he, "my father was a justice of 
peace too ; but he did not spell that word as you do. I 
remember perfectly well, that, instead of an S, he always used 
to spell CIRCUMSTANCE with a C." This sarcastic thrust at 
the scribe entirely turned the tide in favor of the rioters ; 
and, the company being disarmed of their resentment, the 
alderman had no disposition to provoke further criticism by 
going on with the 7mttwi%is. 



214 FENNS YL VA NIA . 

The irregularities of these gay rakes were not more eccen- 
tric than diversified ; and, the more extravagant they could 
render them, the better. At one time they would drive full 
tilt through the streets in a chair ; and upon one of these 
occasions, on approaching a boom which had been thrown 
across the street, in a part that was undergoing the operation 
of paving, they lashed forward their steed, and, sousing against 
the spar with great violence, they were consequently hurled 
from their seats, like Don Quixote in his temerarious assault 
of the windmills. At another time, at Dr. Orme's, the apothe- 
cary, where Ogle lodged, they, in emulation of the same mad 
hero at the puppet-show, laid about them with their canes 
upon the defenceless bottles and phials, at the same time 
assaulting a diminutive Maryland parson, whom, in their frolic, 
they kicked from the street-door to the kitchen. He was a 
fellow-lodger of Ogle's ; and, to make him some amends for 
the roughness of this usage, they shortly after took him drunk 
to the dancing-assembly, where, through the instrumentality 
of this unworthy son of the church, they contrived to excite a 
notable hubbub. Though they had escaped, as already men- 
tioned, at the coffee-house, yet their repeated malefeasances 
had brought them within the notice of the civil authority, and 
they had more than once been in the clutches of the mayor of 
the city. This was Mr. S , a small man of a squat, bandy- 
legged figure ; and hence, by way of being revenged on him, 
they bribed a negro, with a precisely similar pair of legs, to 
carry him a billet, which imported, that, as the bearer had 
in vain searched the town for a pair of hose that might fit 
him, he now applied to his Honor to be informed where he 
purchased his stockings. 

Swimming and Skating. 

The exercises of swimming and skating were so much 
within the reach of the boys of Philadelphia, that it would 
have been surprising, had they neglected them, or even had 
they not excelled in them. Both Delaware and Schuylkill 
present the most convenient and delightful shores for the 



SWIMMING AND SKATING. 21 5 

former, whilst the heat and the length of the summers invite 
to the luxury of bathing ; and the same rivers seldom fail in 
winter to offer the means of enjoying the latter ; and, when 
they do, the ponds always afford them. Since the art of 
swimming has been in some degree dignified by Dr. Frank- 
lin's having been a teacher of it, and having made it the subject 
of a dissertation, I may, perhaps, be warranted in bringing 
forward my remark. When in practice, I never felt myself 
spent with it ; and though I never undertook to swim farther 
than across Schuylkill at or near the middle ferry, where the 
bridge now stands, it appeared to me that I could have con- 
tinued the exercise for hours, and consequently have swum 
some miles. To recover breath, I only found it necessary to 
turn upon my back, in which position, with my arms across 
my body, or pressed to my sides (since moving them, as many 
do, answers no other purpose than to retard and fatigue the 
swimmer), my lungs had free play, and I felt myself as per- 
fectly at ease as if reclined on a sofa. In short, no man can 
be an able swimmer who only swims with his face downward. 
The pressure of the water on the breast is an impediment to 
respiration in that attitude, which, for that reason, cannot be 
long continued : whereas the only inconvenience in the supine 
posture is, that the head sinks so low, that the ears are liable 
to receive water, — a consequence which might be prevented 
by stopping them with wool or cotton, or covering them with 
a bathing-cap. 

With respect to skating, though the Philadelphians have 
never reduced it to rules, like the Londoners, nor connected it 
with their business, like Dutchmen, I will yet hazard the opin- 
ion, that they were the best and most elegant skaters in the 
world. I have seen New-England skaters, Old-England 
skaters, and Holland skaters ; but the best of them could but 
"make the judicious grieve." I was once slightly acquainted 
with a worthy gentleman, the quondam member of a skating- 
club in London ; and it must be admitted that he performed 
very well for an Englishman. His High DutcJi^ or, as he 
better termed it, his otiter-edge skating, might, for aught I 



2 1 6 PENNS YL VAN/ A. 

know, have been exactly conformable to the statutes of this 
institution. To these he would often appeal; and I recollect 
the principal one was, that each stroke should describe an 
exact semicircle. Nevertheless, his style was what we should 
deem a very bad one. An utter stranger to the beauty of 
bringing forward the suspended foot towards the middle of the 
stroke, and boldly advancing it before the other at the conclu- 
sion of it, thus to preserve throughout his course a continuity 
of movement, to rise like an ascending wave to its acme, 
then gracefully, like a descending one, to glide into the suc- 
ceeding r.trokc without effort cither real or apparent, — every 
change of foot with this gentleman seemed a beginning of 
motion, and required a most unseemly jerk of the body, and 
unequivocal evidence of the want of that power which de- 
pends on a just balance, and should never be lost ; which car- 
ries the skater forward with energy without exertion, and is as 
essential to his swift and graceful career as is a good head of 
water to the velocity of a mill-wheel. Those who have seen 
good skating will comprehend what I mean ; %till better those 
who are adepts themselves : but excellence in the art can 
never be gained by geometrical rules. The two reputed best 
skaters of my day were Gen. Cadwallader, and Massey the 
biscuit-baker ; but I could name many others, both of the 
academy and Quaker school, who were in no degree inferior to 
them ; whose action and attitudes were equally graceful, and, 
like theirs, no less worthy of the chisel than those v/hich, in 
other exercises, have been selected to display the skill of the 
eminent sculptors of antiquity. I here speak, be it observed, 
of what the Philadelphians were, not what they are, since I 
am unacquainted with the present state of the art ; and from 
my lately meeting with young men, who, though bred in the 
city, had not learned to swim, I infer the probability that 
skating may be equally on the decline. 



THE SLATE-ROOF HOUSE. 21/ 



The Slate-Roof House. 

The Abbe Raynal,^ when speaking of Philadelphia, in his 
" Philosophical Plistory of the East and West Indies," observes 
that the houses are covered with slate, — a material amply 
supplied from quarries in the neighborhood. But, unfortu- 
nately for the source from which the abbe derived his infor- 
mation, there were no such quarries near the city that ever I 
heard of, and certainly but a single house in it with this kind 
of roof, which, from that circumstance, was distinguished by 
the name of The Slate House. It stood in Second Street, at 
the corner of Norris's Alley, and was a singular old-fashioned 
structure, laid out in the style of a fortification, with abun- 
dance of angles, both salient and re-entering. Its two wings 
projected to the street in the manner cf bastions, to which 
the main building, retreating from sixteen to eighteen feet, 
served for a curtain. Within, it was cut up into a number 
of apartments, and on that account was exceedingly well 
adapted to the purpose of a lodging-house, to which use it 
had been long appropriated. An additional convenience was 
a spacious yard on the back of it, extending half-way to 

1 This celebrated person was bom in 1712, educated among the Jesuits, and 
had even become a member of their order, but was expelled for denying the 
supreme authority cf the church. He afterwards associated with Voltaire, D' Alcm- 
bert, and Diderot, and was by them employed to furnish the theological articles for 
the encyclopasdia. In this, however, he received the assistance cf the Abbe Yvon, 
to whom he did not give above a sixth cf what he received ; which being after- 
wards discovered, he was obliged to pay Yvon the balance. His most celebrated 
work is his " Political and Philosophical History of the European Settlements in 
the East and West Indies," which has been translated into all the languages of 
Europe, and much admired. This work was followed, in 17S0, by another, entitled 
"The Revolution of America," in which the abbe pleads the cause of the Ameri- 
cans with zeal. The chief trait in Raynal's character was his love of liberty ; but, 
when he saw the length to which the French revolutionists were proceeding, he 
made one effort to stop them in their career. In May, 1791, he addressed a letter to 
the Constituent National Assembly, in which, after complimerting them upon the 
great thmgs they had done, he cautioned them against the dangers of going farther. 
He lived ftot only to see his forebodings of public calamity realized, but to suffer 
his share of it. After being stripped of all his property, which was considerable, 
by the robbers cf the Revolution, he died in poverty, March, 1796, in the eighty- 
fourth year of his age. — Lond. Ency. 



2 1 8 FENNS YL VA NIA . 

Front Street, enclosed by a high wall, and ornamented with a 
double row of venerable, lofty pines, which afforded a very 
agreeable rus in urbe, or rural scene in the heart of the city. 
The lady who had resided here, and given some celebrity to 
the stand by the style of her accommodations, either dying, or 
declining business, my mother was persuaded by her friends 
to become her successor, and, accordingly, obtained a lease 
of the premises, and took possession of them, to the best cf 
my recollection, in the year 1764 or 1765.1 While in this resi- 
dence, and in a still more commodious one in the upper part 
of Front Street, to which she some years afterwards removed, 
she had the honor, if so it might be called, of entertaining 
strangers of the first rank who visited the city. Those who 
have seen better days, but have been compelled by hard 
necessity to submit to a way of life, which to a feeling mind, 
whoever may be the guests, is sufficiently humiliating, are 
much indebted to Mr. Gibbon for the handsome manner in 

1 The slate-roof house is still standing [in 1846], a creditable monument to the 
forbearance of its lady-owner, in the midst of the general war which for years has 
been steadily waged against every relic of the olden-time. How much longer it 
will be suffered to remain, it were vain to conjecture. Its origin, its uses, and the 
historical characters who from time to time have dwelt within its walls, should 
create a feeling of interest for its preservation on the part cf Philadelphians, and 
prompt the adoption of immediate measures for that patriotic purpose. In this 
age of "Constitutional scruples," the city councils might not feel at liberty to 
appropriate the sum necessary for its purchase and restoration ; but the citizens 
themselves, by limiting the sum to a trifle, might readily fill a subscription for a 
few thousand dollars, and, by placing it under the guardianship of the city, insure 
for it the necessary care. [It has since been taken down.] 

Wc are informed by the zealous chronicler, Watson, that this house was erected 
for Samuel Carpenter, whom he eulogizes for his early public spirit, and that it was 
occupied by William Pcnn on his second visit, in the year 1700. One month after 
Penn's arrival, John Penn, called the "American," was bom in this house. In 
1703 the property was purchased by William Trent, the founder of Trenton, the 
capital of New Jersey, for eight hundred and fifty pounds. Watson quotes a letter 
from James Logan in 1700 to Penn as follows : " William Trent, designing for Eng- 
land, is about selling his house (that he bought of Samuel Carpenter), which thou 
lived in, with the improvement of a beautiful garden. I wish it could be made 
thine, as nothing in this town is so well fitting a governor. His price is nine 
hundred pounds of our money, which it Is hard thou canst not spare." 

He could not spare it, however ; and it became the property of a Mr. Norrls, in 
whose family it still continues. — J. S. Littell, 



THE GUESTS OF THE SLATE-ROOF HOUSE. 219 

which he speaks of the hostess of a boarding-house at Lau- 
sanne. With the dehcacy of a gentleman, and the discern- 
ment of a man of the world, the historian dares to recognize 
that worth and refinement are not confined to opulence or 
station ; and that although, in the keeper of a house of public 
entertainment, these qualities are not much to be looked for, 
yet, when they do occur, the paying for the comforts and 
attentions we receive does not exempt us from the courtesy 
of an apparent equality and obligation. An equally liberal 
way of thinking is adopted by Mr. Cumberland, who tells us 
in his Memoirs, that the British coffee-house was kept by a 
Mrs. Anderson, a person of great respectability. If, then, an 
education and situation in early life, which enabled my mother 
to maintain an intercourse in the best families in the city, — 
pretentions in no degree impaired by her matrimonial connec- 
tion, or an industrious, irreproachable conduct in her succeed- 
ing years of widowhood, — can give a claim to respect, I have 
a right to say with Mr. Cumberland, that the principal lodging- 
house in Philadelphia was kept by a person of great respecta- 
bility. 

The Guests of the Slate-Roof House. 

A biographical sketch of the various personages who in 
the course of eight or nine years became inmates of this 
house, might, from the hand of a good delineator, be both 
curious and amusing. Among these were persons of distinc- 
tion, and some of no distinction ; many real gentlemen, and 
some, no doubt, who were merely pretenders to the appella- 
tion ; some attended by servants in gay liveries ; some, with 
servants in plain coats ; and some with no servants at all. It 
was rarely without officers of the British army. It was, at 
different times, nearly filled by those of the Forty-second or 
Highland Regiment, as, also, by those of the Royal Irish. 
Besides these, it sometimes accommodated officers of other 
armies, and other uniforms. Of this description was the 
Baron de Kalb, who visited this country probably about the 
year 1768 or 1769, and who fell a major-general in the army 
of the United States at the battle of Camden. Though a 



220 FENNS YL VA NIA. 

German by birth, he had belonged to the French service, 
and had returned to France after the visit just mentioned. 
During our Revolutionary contest, he came to tender us his 
services, and returned no more. The steady and composed 
demeanor of the baron bespoke the soldier and philosopher, — 
the man who had calmly estimated life and death, and who, 
though not prodigal of the one, had no unmanly dread of the 
other. He was not indeed a young man ; and his behavior 
at the time of his death, as I have heard it described by 
Mons. Dubuisson, his aide-de-camp, was exactly conformable 
to what might have been supposed from his character.^ 

* "The representation of the baron," says the author in a MS. note "as an 
enthusiast for liberty, whose sacred cause he crossed the Atlantic to espouse, is 
one of the 'lame and impotent conclusions' of our republican fanatics. He cared 
just as much for our liberty, probably, as did the other French subjects who assisted 
us under the standard of the Count de Rochambeau. He, no doubt, thought the 
occasion favorable for crippling the power of Britain, and of avenging the loss of 
Canada. At the same time, he was politic enough to take the tone of the people he 
was acting with, and might, therefore, have talked of liberty with the rest ; but he 
would have deemed it quite sufficient to his fame to be considered as at once faith- 
ful to France and her allies, and of having acquitted himself as a brave and accom- 
plished soldier ; and this was all we had to require of him." 

The baron was born in Germany, about the year 1717. When young, he en- 
tered into the service of France, in which he continued for forty-two years, and 
obtained the rank of brigadier-general. In 1757, during the war between England 
and France, he was sent by the French Government to the American colonies, in 
order to learn the pomts in which they were most vulnerable, and how far the seeds 
of discontent might be sown in them towards the mother-country. He was seized, 
while in the performance of his commission, as a suspected person, buf escaped 
detection. He then went to Canada, where he remained until its conquest by the 
British, after which he returned to France. In 1777, during the war of the Revo- 
lution, he came a second time to the United States, and offered his services to 
Congress. They were accepted ; and he was soon after made a major-general. At 
first he was placed in the northern army ; but when the danger which threatened 
Charleston from the formidable expedition under Sir Henry Clinton, in 1778, ren- 
dered it necessary to re-enforce the American troops in the south, a detachment was 
sent to them, consisting of the Maryland and Delaware lines, which were put under 
his command. Before he could arrive, however, at the scene of action. Gen. Lin- 
coln had been made prisoner, and the direction of the whole southern army devolved 
upon the baron, until the appointment of Gen. Gates. On the 15th of August, 
Gates was defeated near Camden, by Lord Rawdon ; and, in the battle, De Kalb, 
who commanded the right wing, fell, covered with wounds, while gallantly fighting 
on foot. A tomb was erected to his memorj', by order of Congress, in the cemetery 
of Camden. — Ency. A mer. — J. S. Littell. 



LADY MOORE AND LADY O'BRIEN. 221 

Another of our foreign guests was one Badourin, who wore 
a white cockade, and gave himself out for a general in the 
Austrian service ; but, whether general or not, he one night, 
very unexpectedly, left his quarters, making a masterly retreat, 
with the loss of no other baggage than that of an old trunk, 
which, when opened, was found to contain only a few old 
Latin and German books. Among the former was a folio, 
bound in parchment, which I have now before me : it is a 
ponderous tract of the mystical Robert Fludd, alias de Fluc- 
tibus, printed at Oppenheim in the year 1618, and in part 
dedicated to the Duke de Guise, whom the author informs us 
he had instructed in the art of war. It is to this writer, prob- 
ably, that Butler thus alludes in his " Hudibras : " — 

*' He, Anthroposoplius and Floud 
And Jacob Behman, understood." 

From this work of Mr. Fludd, which, among a fund of other 
important matter, treats of astrology and divination, it is not 
improbable that its quondam possessor, Mr. Badourin, might 
have been a mountebank conjurer, instead of a general. 

Lady Moore and Lady O'Brien. 

Among those of rank from Great Britain, with whose resi- 
dence we were honored, I recollect Lady Moore and her 
daughter, a sprightly miss, not far advanced in her teens, and 
who, having apparently no dislike to be seen, had more than 
once attracted my attention ; ^ for I was just touching that 
age when such objects begin to be interesting, and excite 

* Sir Henry Moore, the last British governor of New York that I remember 
(says Mrs. Grant), came up this summer to see Albany, and the ornament of 
Albany, Aunt Schuyler. He brought Lady Moore and his daughter with him. 
This is the same family alluded to in the text ; but I was not aware (says the author 
in a MS. note) that Sir Henry was governor of New York. Mrs. Grant and myself, 
probably not differing much in age, appear nearly at the same time to have been 
looking back on the scenes of our youth, and to have brought to remembrance 
not only some of the characters, but to have coincided in our remarks on several 
subjects. The Miss Moore alluded to, I remember to have heard, was, some years 
after the time of this our joint recognition of her, considered as an elegant woman in 
England, where, it was said, she led the fashions, — J. S. Littell. 



222 PENNS YL VANIA. 

feelings which disdain the invidious barriers with which the 
pride of condition would surround itself. Not that the young 
lady was stately. My vanity rather hinted she was conde- 
scendingly courteous ; and I had no doubt read of women of 
quality falling in love with their inferiors. Nevertheless, the 
extent of my presumption was a look or a bow as she now 
and then tripped along through the entry. Another was Lady 
Susan O'Brien, not more distinguished by her title than by her 
husband, who accompanied her, and had figured as a come- 
dian on the London stage, in the time of Garrick, Mossop, 
and Barry. Although Churchill charges him with being an 
imitator of Woodward,^ he yet admits him to be a man of 
parts ; and he has been said to have surpassed all his con- 
temporaries in the character of the fine gentleman, in his 
easy manner of treading the stage, and particularly of drawing 



1 Woodward, endowed with various powers of face, 
Great master in the science of grimace, 
From Ireland ventures, favorite of the town, 
Lured by the pleasing prospect of renown. 
A squeaking Harlequin made up of whim, 
He twists, he twines, he tortures every limb, 
Plays to the eye with a mere monkey's art. 
And leaves to sense the conquest of the heart. 
We laugh, indeed; but, on reflection's birth, 
We wonder at ourselves, and curse our mirth. 
His walk of parts he fatally misplaced, 
And inclination fondly took for taste : 
Hence hath the town so often seen displayed 
Beau in burlesque, high life in masquerade. 
But when bold wits, not such as patch up plays, 
Cold and correct in these insipid days. 
Some comic character strong-featured, urge 
To probability's extremest verge. 
Where modest Judgment her decree suspends, 
And for a time nor censures, nor commends, 
Where critics can't determine on the spot 
Whether it is in Nature found or not, 
There Woodward safely shall his powers exert, 
Nor fail of favor where he shows desert : 
Hence he in Bobadil such praises bore. 
Such worthy praises, Kitely scarce had more. 

ChurchiWs Rosciad. 



SIR WILLIAM DRAPER. 223 

the sword, to which action he communicated a swiftness and 
a grace which Garrick imitated, but could not equal.^ O'Brien 
is presented to my recollection as a man of the middle height, 
with a symmetrical form, rather light than athletic. Employed 
by the father to instruct Lady Susan in elocution, he taught 
her, it seems, that it was no sin to love ; for she became his 
wife, and, as I have seen it mentioned in the " Theatrical 
Mirror," obtained for him, through the interest of her family, 
a post in America. But what this post was, or where it 
located him, I never heard. 

Sir William Draper. 

A third person of celebrity and title was Sir William 
Draper,^ who made a tour to this country a short time after 

* Shadows behind of Foote and Woodward came : 

WiLLKiNSON this, O'Brien was that name. 

Strange to relate, but wonderfully true. 

That even shadows have their shadows too ! 

With not a single comic power endued, 

The first a mere mere mimic's mimic stood. 

The last, by Nature formed to please, who shows 

In Johnson's Stephen which way Genius grows ; 

Self quite put off, affects with too much art 

To put on Woodward in each mangled part, 

Adopt his shrug, his wink, his stare, nay, more, 

His voice and croaks ; for Woodward croaked before. 

When the dull copier simple grace neglects, 

And rests his imitation in defects, 

We readily forgive ; but such vile arts 

Are double guilt in men of real parts. 

CJivrckilVs Rosciad. 
2 Vide correspondence in the Letters of Junius. In his celebrated contro- 
versy with the "great unknown," Sir William displayed a degree of ability and 
skill that challenged the admiration even of his relentless adversary. He attained 
the rank of general in the British army. He was bom at Bristol (England), where 
his father held the post of collector of the customs. He was thoroughly educated 
at Eton and at Cambridge. In 1763 he was " conqueror of Manilla." He ar- 
rived at Charleston, S.C., in January, 1770, and during the summer of that year 
visited Maryland, where he was received with much hospitality. From Maryland 
he passed into New York, and, while there, was married to Miss De Lancey, who 
died in 1778, leaving him a daughter. In 1779 '^e was appointed lieutenant- 
governor of Minorca. He died at Bath, January, 1787. 

Wraxall says he was " a man hardly better known to posterity by his capture 



224 FENNS YL VANIA. 

his newspaper encounter with Junius. It has even been sug- 
gested that this very incident sent the knight on his travels. 
Whether or not it had so important a consequence, it cannot 
be denied that Sir WilHam catight a Tai-tar in Junius ; and 
that, when he commenced his attack, he had evidently un- 
derrated his adversary. 

During his stay in Philadelphia, no one was so assiduous 
in his attentions to him as Mr. Richardson, better known at 
that time by the name of Frank Richardson, then from Eng- 
land, on a visit to his friends. This gentleman was one of 
the most singular and successful of American adventurers. 
The son of one of our plainest Quakers, he gave early indica- 
tions of that cast of character which has raised him to his 
present station, — that of a colonel in the British Guards. At 
a time when such attainments formed no part of education in 
Pennsylvania, he sedulously employed himself in acquiring 
skill in the use of the small-sword and the pistol, as if to 
shine as a duellist had been the first object of his ambition. 
Either from a contempt for the dull pursuits of the "home- 
keeping youth " of his day, or from the singularity of his pro- 
pensities repelling association, he was solitary, and rarely with 
companions. Fair and delicate to effeminacy, he paid great 
attention to his person, which he had the courage to invest in 
scarlet, in defiance of the society to which he belonged, in 
whose mind's eye, perhaps as to that of the blind man of 



of Manilla than by his correspondence with Junius. He was endowed with tal- 
ents, which, whether exerted in the field or in the closet, entitled him to great con- 
sideration. His vanity, which led him to call his house at Clifton, near Bristol, 
• Manilla Hall,' and there to erect a cenotaph to his fellow-soldiers who fell 
before that city during the siege, exposed him to invidious comments. . . . 
Junius' s obligations to his officious friendship for the Marquis of Granby was 
indelible; for however admirably written may be his letter of the 21st of January, 
1769, which opened the series of those celebrated compositions, it was Draper's 
answer, with his signature annexed to it, that drew all eyes towards the two literary 
combatants. Great as were Junius's talents, yet, if he had been left to exhale his 
resentment without notice or reply, he might have found it difficult to concentre on 
himself the attention of all England. But, the instant that Sir William avowedly 
entered the lists as Lord Granby' s champion, a new interest was awakened in the 
public mind." — J. S. Littell. 



SIR WILLIAM DRAPER. 22$ 

Locke, this color, from their marked aversion to it, resembles 
the sound of a trumpet ; and no less in defiance of the plain 
manners of a city, in which, except on the back of a sol- 
dier, a red coat was a phenomenon, and always indicated a 
Creole, a Carolinian, or a dancing-master. With these quali- 
fications, and these alone perhaps, Mr. Richardson, at an 
early age, shipped himself for England, where soon, having 
the good-fortune to establish a reputation for courage by 
drawing his sword in behalf of a young man of rank, in a 
broil at the theatre, he was received into the best company, 
and thence laid the foundation of his preferment. Such, at 
least, was the generally received account of his rise. But, 
whether accurate or not, his intimate footing with Sir William 
is an evidence of the style of his company whilst abroad, as 
well as of the propriety of his conclusion, that his native 
land was not his sphere.^ 

As the story went, on Mr. Richardson's first going to Eng- 
land, he happened to be in the same lodgings with Foote the 
comedian, with whom he became intimate. One day, upon 
his coming out of his chamber, " Richardson," says Foote 
to him, "a person has just been asking for you, who ex- 
pressed a strong desire to see you, and pretended to be an 
old Philadelphia acquaintance. But I knew better ; for he was 

a d d ill-looking fellow, and I have no doubt the rascal 

was a bailiff: so I told him you were not at home." But 
here either Foote's sagacity had been at fault, or he had 
been playing off a stroke of his humor, the visitor having 

really been no other than Mr. , a respectable merchant 

of Philadelphia, though not a figure the most debonair, to be 
sure. 

1 He is the same Richardson alluded to in the following extract of a letter from 
Gen. Washington to Mr. Reed, dated 14th January, 1776: "Mr. Sayre has been 
committed to the Tower upon the information of a certain Lieutenant or Adjutant 
Richardson (formerly of your city), for treasonable practices, an intention of seiz- 
ing his Majesty, and possessing himself of the Tower, it is said in ' The Crisis.' 
But he is admitted to bail himself in five hundred pounds, and two sureties in two 
hundred and fifty pounds each." — Sjiarks^s Writings of Washington^ vol. iii. p. 
242. — y. S. Littell. 

15 



226 PENNSYLVANIA. 

From Philadelphia, Sir William passed on to New York, 
where, if I mistake not, he married. During his residence in 
that city, he frequently amused himself with a game of rackets, 
which he played with some address ; and he set no small 
value on the talent. There was a mechanic in the place, the 
hero of the tennis court, who was so astonishingly superior 
to other men, that there were few whom he could not beat 
with one hand attached to the handle of a wheelbarrow. Sir 
William wished to play with him, and was gratified ; the New- 
Yorker having urbanity enough to cede the splendid stranger 
some advantages, and, even in conquering, to put on the 
appearance of doing it with difficulty. Yet, apart, he declared 
that he could have done the same with the incumbrance of 
the wheelbarrow. These are hearsay facts : they come, how- 
ever, from persons of credit, in the way of being acquainted 
with them. 

Major Etherington. 

Major George Etherington of the Royal Americans was 
an occasional inmate of our house, from its first establish- 
ment on the large scale, until the time of its being laid down, 
about the year 1774. He seemed to be always employed in 
the recruiting service, in the performance of which he had a 
snug, economical method of his own. He generally dispensed • 
with the noisy ceremony of a recruiting coterie; for having, 
as it was said, and I believe truly, passed through the prin- 
cipal grades in its composition, namely, those of drummer 
and sergeant, he was a perfect master of the inveigling arts 
which are practised on* the occasion, and could fulfil, at a 
pinch, all the duties himself. The vci-^ox's forte was a knowl- 
edge of mankind, of low life especially ; and he seldom 
scented a subject that he did not, in the end, make his prey. 
He knew his man, and could immediately discover a fish that 
would bite : hence he wasted no time in angling in wrong 
waters. His superior height, expansive frame, and muscular 
limbs, gave him a commanding air among the vulgar ; and, 
while enforcing his suit with all the flippancy of halbert elo- 
cution, he famiharly held his booby by the button : his small, 



MAJOR ETHERINGTON. 22/ 

black, piercing eyes, which derived additional animation from 
the intervention of a sarcastic, upturned nose, penetrated to 
the fellow's soul, and gave him distinct intelligence of what 
was passing there. In fact, I have never seen a man with a 
cast of countenance so extremely subtile and investigating. 
I have myself more than once undergone its scrutiny ; for 
he took a very friendly interest in my welfare, evinced by an 
occasional superintendence of my education, in so far, at 
least, as respects the exterior accomplishments. Above all 
things, he enjoined upon me the cultivation of the French 
language, of which he had himself acquired a smattering 
from a temporary residence in Canada ; and he gave me a 
pretty sharp lecture upon a resolution I had absurdly taken 
up, not to learn dancing, from an idea of its being an effemi- 
nate and unmanly recreation. He combated my folly with 
arguments of which I have since felt the full force, but 
which, as they turned upon interests I was then too young to 
form conceptions of, produced neither conviction nor effect. 
Fortunately for me, I had to deal with a man who was not 
thus to be baffled. He very properly assumed the rights of 
mature age and experience ; and accordingly, one day, on my 
return from school, he accosted me with, " Come here, young 
man, I have something to say to you," and, with a mysterious 
air, conducted me to his chamber. Here I found myself 
entrapped. Godwin, the assistant of Tioli, the dancing- 
master, was prepared to give me a lesson. Etherington in- 
troduced me to him as the pupil he had been speaking of, 
and, saying he would leave us to ourselves, he politely retired. 
The arrangement with Tioli was, that I should be attended in 
the major's room until I was sufficently drilled for the pubHc 
school; and, the ice thus broken, I went on, and instead of 
standing in a corner, like a goose on one leg (the major's com- 
parison) "while music softens, and while dancing fires," I 
became qualified for the enjoyment of female society in one 
of its most captivating forms. 

Major Etherington had a brother in the rank of a captain, 
so like himself as to realize the story of the two Socias, and 



228 PENNSYLVANIA, 

to remove half the improbability of the plot of Shakspeare's 
" Comedy of Errors." Any one at a first sight might have 
mistaken the one for the other, at least I did, for a moment ; 
but, on a close inspection, it would be discovered that the cap- 
tain was more scant in his proportions, as well as several 
years younger, than his brother. Tom, for so the captain was 
familiarly called by the major, had taken his turn to recruit in 
Philadelphia, while his superior was employed elsewhere. 
From a comparatively weaker discernment of human charac- 
ter, he had enhsted a lad, and converted him into his waiting- 
man, whom George, on a junction which soon after took 
place, pronounced to be a fool, and wholly unfit for a soldier. 
This the captain denied strenuously, and the question became 
the f-equent topic of good-humored altercation between them, 
until an incident occurred which gave the major an unequivo- 
cal triumph. One morning very early, the brothers lodging 
in the same apartment, this recruit, and, for the first time, 
common servant of the two, softly approached the bed of the 
major, and, gently tapping him on the shoulder to awaken 
him, very sapiently inquired if he might clean his shoes. 
George, with infinite presence of mind, replied that it was 
not material ; but " go," says he, " and ask my brother Tom 
if you may clean his." The poor fellow did as he was bid, 
and probably as he would have done if he had not been 
bidden ; and Tom's slumbers became victims, also, to the 
same momentous investigation. The major took care to 
relate the circumstance at the breakfast-table, and, of course, 
obtained a unanimous suffrage to his opinion, that the cap- 
tain's recruit was not exceeding wise. 

The Battle of the Kegs. 

[Francis Hopkinson's amusing "Ballad of the Battle of 
the Kegs " had its origin in an incident thus related in a letter 
from Philadelphia, published in " The New Jersey Gazette," 
Jan. 21, 1778.] 

Philadelphia has been entertained with a most astonishing 
instance of the activity, bravery, and military skill of the 



THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 229 

royal navy of Great Britain. The affair is somewhat particu- 
lar, and deserves notice. Some time last week, two boys 
observed a keg of a singular construction floating in the river 
opposite to the city. They got into a small boat, and, attempt- 
ing to take up the keg, it burst with a great explosion, and 
blew up the unfortunate boys. Yesterday, several kegs of a 
Kke construction made their appearance. An alarm was im- 
mediately spread through the city. Various reports prevailed, 
filling the city and the royal troops with consternation. Some 
reported that the kegs were filled with armed rebels, who were 
to issue forth in the dead of night, as the Grecians did of old 
from their wooden horse at the siege of Troy, and take the 
city by surprise ; asserting that they had seen the points of 
their bayonets through the bungholes of the kegs. Others 
said they were charged with the most inveterate combustibles, 
to be kindled by secret machinery, and, setting the whole 
Delaware in flames, were to consume all the shipping in the 
harbor ; whilst others asserted that they were constructed by 
art magic, would of themselves ascend the wharves in the 
night time, and roll all flaming through the streets of the city, 
destroying every thing in their way. Be this as it may, cer- 
tain it is that the shipping in the harbor, and all the wharves 
in the city, were fully manned. The battle began ; and it was 
surprising to behold the incessant blaze that was kept up 
against the enemy, the kegs. Both officers and men exhib- 
ited the most unparalleled skill and bravery on the occasion ; 
whilst the citizens stood gazing as solemn witnesses of their 
prowess. From " The Roebuck " and other ships of war, 
whole broadsides were poured into the Delaware. In short, 
not a wandering ship, stick, or drift-log, but felt the vigor of 
the British arms. The action began about sunrise, and would 
have been completed with great success by noon, had not an 
old market-woman, coming down the river with provisions, 
unfortunately let a small keg of butter fall overboard, which 
(as it was then ebb) floated down to the scene of action. At 
sight of this unexpected re-enforcement of the enemy, the 
battle was renewed with fresh fury, and the firing was incessant 



230 PENNSYLVANIA. 

till the evening closed the affair. The kegs were either totally 
demolished, or obliged to fly, as none of them have shown 
their heads since. It is said his Excellency Lord Howe has 
despatched a swift-sailing packet with an account of this 
victory to the court of London. In a word, Monday, the 5th 
of January, 1778, must ever be distinguished in history for 
the memorable Battle of the Kegs.^ 

Habits of Society in Philadelphia. 

[That entertaining chi.fonnier, Watson, in his " Annals of 
Philadelphia," has gathered, from conversation with a great 
many octogenarians, a multitude of incidents and sayings 
respecting life in Philadelphia, and in other parts of the State, 
a hundred years ago ; and we glean from his work some of 
the characteristic facts.] 

Mrs. Susan N , who lived to be eighty years of age, told 

me it was the custom of her early days for the young part of 
the family, and especially of the female part, to dress up neatly 
towards the close of the day, and sit in the street-porch. It 
was customary to go from porch to porch in neighborhoods, 
and sit and converse. Young gentlemen, in passing, used to 
affect to say, that, while they admired the charms of the fair 



1 a writer in the Pennsylvania Ledger of Feb. 1 1 says, in reference to this event, 
" The town of Philadelphia not being as fully acquainted with the subject of the 
letter taken from a Burlington paper as the ingenious author would have his read- 
ers believe them to be, it may be necessary to relate to them the fact. At the time 
it happened, it was so trifling as not to be thought worthy of notice in this paper ; 
and we do not doubt but our readers will allow this letter-writer full credit for the 
fertility of his invention. The case was, that, on the 5th of January last, a barrel 
of an odd appearance came floating down the Delaware, opposite the town, and 
attracted the attention of some boys, who went in pursuit of it, and had scarcely 
got possession of it, when it blew up, and either killed or injured one or more of 
them. So far the matter was serious ; and the fellow who invented the mischief 
may quit his conscience of the murder or injury done the lads as well as he can. 
Some days after, a few others of much the same appearance, and some in the form 
of buoys, came floating in like manner ; and a few guns were, we believe, fired at 
them from some of the transports lying along the wharves. Other than this, no 
notice was taken of them, except, indeed, by our author, whose imagination, per- 
haps as fertile as his invention, realized to himself in the frenzy of his enthusiasm 
the matters he has set forth." 



HABITS OF SOCIETY IN PHILADELPHIA. 23 1 

who thus occupied them, they found it a severe ordeal, as they 
thought they might become the subject of remark. This, 
however, was a mere banter. Those days were really very 
agreeable and sociable. To be so easily gratified with a sight 
of the whole city population must have been peculiarly grate- 
ful to every travelling stranger. 

Our girls in the daytime, as told me by T. B., used to attend 
,to the work of the family, and in the evening paraded in their 
porch at the door. Some of them, however, even then read 
novels, and walked without business abroad. Those who had 
not housework employed themselves in their accomplish- 
ments, such as making shell-work, cornucopi^e, working of 
pocketbooks with a close, strong-stitched needlework. 

The wedding-entertainments of olden times were very ex- 
pensive and harassing to the wedded. The house of the par- 
ent would be filled with company to dine : the same company 
would stay to tea and to supper. For two days, punch was 
dealt out in profusion. The gentlemen saw the groom on the 
first floor, and then ascended to the second floor, where they 
saw the bride : there every gentleman, even to one hundred 
in a day, kissed her. Even the plain Friends submitted to 
these things. I have known rich families which had one hun- 
dred and twenty persons to dine, — the same who had signed 
their certificate of marriage at the Monthly Meeting : these 
also partook of tea and supper. As they formally passed the 
Meeting twice, the same entertainment was repeated. Two 
days the male friends would call and take punch ; and all would 
kiss the bride. Besides this, the married pair for two weeks 
saw large tea-parties at their home, having in attendance every 
night the groomsmen and bridesmaids. To avoid expense and 
trouble. Friends have since made it sufficient to pass but one 
Meeting. When these marriage-entertainments were made, it 
was expected also that punch, cakes, and meats should be 
sent out very generally in the neighborhood, even to tliose 
who were not visitors in the family. 



23 2 PENNS YL VA NIA, 

Affectation of French Manners. 

About the year 1793 to '94, there was an extravagant and 
impolitic affection for France, and hostility to every thing 
British, in our country generally. It required all the prudence 
of Washington and his cabinet to stem the torrent of passion 
which flowed in favor of France to the prejudice of our neu- 
trality. Now the event is passed, we may thus soberly speak' 
of its character. This remark is made for the sake of intro- 
ducing the fact, that the patriotic mania was so high, that it 
caught the feelings of the boys of Philadelphia. I remember 
with what joy we ran to the wharves, at the report of cannon, 
to see the arrivals of the Frenchmen's prizes, we were so 
pleased to see the British union down. When we met French 
mariners or officers in the streets, we would cry, "Vive la Re- 
publique ! " Although most of us understood no French, we 
had caught many national airs ; and the streets, by day and 
night, resounded with the songs of boys, such as these : 
" Allons, enfans de la patrie, le jour de gloire est arrive ! " 
&c. " Dansons le carmagnole, vive le sang ! vive le sang ! " 
&c. "A 5'ira, 9'ira," &c. Several verses of each of these 
and others were thus sung. All of us, too, put on the national 
cockade. Some, whose parents had more discretion, resisted 
this boyish parade of patriotism for a doubtful revolution ; and 
then they wore their cockade on the inside of their hat. I 
remember several boyish processions ; and on one occasion 
the girls, dressed in white and in French tricolored ribbons, 
formed a procsssion too. There was a great liberty pole, 
with a red cap at top, erected at Adet's or Fauchet's house 
[now Girards Square, up High Street]; and there I and one 
hundred others, taking hold of hands, and forming a ring 
round the same, made triumphant leapings, singing the national 
airs. There was a band of music to lead the airs. I remem- 
ber that among the grave and elderly men who gave the 
impulse, and prompted the revellings, was a burly, gouty old 
gentleman, Blair M'Clenahan, Esq. (famed in the Democratic 
ranks of that day) ; and with him and the white misses at our 



DRESS. 233 

head, we marched down the middle of the dusty street, and 
when arrived opposite to Mr. Hammond's (the British minis- 
ter's house ; High, above Eighth Street, Hunter's house, I 
beUeve), there were several signs of disrespect manifested to 
his house. All the facts of that day, as I now contemplate 
them as among the earliest impressions of my youth, seem 
something like the remembrance of a splendid dream. I hope 
never to see such an enthusiasm for any foreigners again, 
however merited. It was a time, when, as it seems to me, 
Philadelphia boys usurped the attributes of manhood, and 
the men, who should have chastened us, had themselves 
become very puerile ! It was a period in Philadelphia when 
reason and sobriety of thought had lost their wonted operation 
on our citizens. They were fine feelings to insure the suc- 
cess of a war actually begun, but bad affections for any 
nation whose interests lay in peace and neutrality. Wash- 
ington bravely submitted to become unpopular to allay and 
repress this dangerous foreign attachment. 

Gentlemen's Dress. 

Mr. B , a gentleman of ninety years of age, has given 

me his recollections of the costumes of his early days in 
Philadelphia, to this effect ; to wit, men wore three-square or 
cocked hats, and wigs, coats with large cuffs, big skirts, lined 
and stiffened with buckram. None ever saw a crown higher 
than the head. The coat of a beau had three or four large 
plaits in the skirts, wadding almost like a coverlet to keep 
them smooth, cuffs, very large, up to the elbows, open below, 
and inclined down, with lead therein : the capes were thin and 
low, so as readily to expose the close plaited neck-stock of 
fine linen cambric, and the large silver stock-buckle on the 
back of the neck. Shirts with hand ruffles, sleeves finely 
plaited ; breeches close fitted, with silver, stone, or paste gem 
buckles ; shoes, or pumps, with silver buckles of various sizes 
and patterns; thread, worsted, and silk stockings. The poorer 
class wore sheep and buckskin breeches close set to the limbs. 
Gold and silver sleeve-buttons, set with stones or paste, of 



234 FENNS YL VA NT A. 

various colors and kinds, adorned the wrists of the shirts of 
all classes. The very boys often wore wigs ; and their dresses 
in general were similar to that of the men. The odious use 
of wigs was never disturbed till after the return of Braddock's 
broken army. They appeared in Philadelphia, wearing only 
their natural hair, — a mode well adapted to the military, and 
thence adopted by our citizens. The King of England, too, 
about this time, having cast off his wig, inalgre the will of the 
people and the petitions and remonstrances of the periwig- 
makers of London, this confirmed the change of fashion here, 
and completed the ruin of our wig-makers.^ The women 
wore caps (a bare head was never seen), stiff stays, hoops 
from six inches to two feet on each side, so that a full-dressed 
lady entered a door like a crab, pointing her obtruding flanks 
end foremost, high-heeled shoes of black stuff with white 
silk or thread stockings ; and, in the miry times of winter, they 
wore clogs, galoshes, or pattens. 

From various reminiscents we glean that laced ruffles de- 
pending over the hand were a mark of indispensable gentility. 
The coat and breeches were generally desirable of the same 
material, — of broadcloth for winter, and of silk camlet 
for summer. No kind of cotton fabrics was then in use or 
known. Hose were, therefore, of thread or silk in summer, 
and of fine worsted in winter. Shoes were square-toed, and 
were often " double channelled." To these succeeded sharp 
toes as peaked as possible. When wigs were universally 
worn, gray wigs were powdered, and for that purpose sent in 
a wooden box frequently to the barber to be dressed on his 
blockhead. But " brown wigs," so called, were exempted from 
the white disguise. Coats of red cloth, even by boys, were 
considerably worn ; and plush breeches and plush vests of 
various colors, shining and slipping, were in common use. 
Everlasting, made of worsted, was a fabric of great use for 
breeches, and sometimes for vests. The vest had great 

1 The use of wigs must have been peculiarly an English fashion here, as I 
find Kalm, in 1749, speaks of the French gentlemen then as wearing their own hair 
in Canada. — J. F. Watson. 



DRESS. 235 

depending pocket-flaps ; and the breeches were very short 
above the stride, because the art of suspending them by sus- 
penders was unknown. It was then the test of a well-formed 
man, that he could by his natural form readily keep his 
breeches above his hips, and his stockings, without gartering, 
above the calf of the leg. With the cues belonged frizzled 
sidelocks, and toupees formed of the natural hair ; or, in defect 
of a long tie, a splice was added to it. Such was the general 
passion for the longest possible whip of hair, that sailors and 
boatmen, to make it grow, used to tie theirs in eel-skins to 
aid its growth. Nothing Hke surtouts were known ; but they 
had coating or cloth great-coats, or blue cloth and brown cam- 
let cloaks, with green baize lining to the latter. In the time 
of the American war, many of the American officers intro- 
duced the use of Dutch blankets for great-coats. The sailors 
in the olden time used to wear hats of glazed leather, or of 
woollen thrumbs, called chapeaux, closely woven, and looking 
like a rough nap ; and their " small-clothes," as we would 
say now, were immense wide petticoat-breeches, wide open at 
the knees, and no longer. About eighty years ago, our work- 
ingmen in the country wore the same, havmg no falling flaps, 
but slits in front : they were so full and free in girth, that they 
ordinarily changed the rear to the front when the seat became 
j^rematurely worn out. In sailors and common people, big 
silver brooches in the bosom were displayed, and long quar- 
tered shoes, with extreme big buckles on the extreme front. 

Gentlemen in the olden time used to carry muffettees in win- 
ter. They were, in effect, little woollen muffs of various col- 
ors, just big enough to admit both hands, and long enough to 
screen the wrists, which were then more exposed than now ; 
for they then wore short sleeves to their coats purposely to 
display their fine linen and plajted shirt-sleeves with their 
gold buttons, and sometimes laced ruffles. The sleeve-cuffs 
were very wide, and hung down depressed with leads in them. 
In the summer-season, men very often wore calico morning- 
gowns at all times of the day, arid abroad in the streets. A 
damask banyan was much the same thing by another name. 



2 36 PENNS YL VANIA. 

Poor laboring-men wore ticklenburg linen for shirts, and 
striped ticken breeches ; they wore gray corduroy coats in 
winter. Men and boys always wore leather breeches. 
Leather aprons were used by all tradesmen and workmen. 

Ladies' Dress. 

Once ladies wore "a skimmer hat," made of a fabric which 
shone like silver tinsel : it was of a very small flat crown, and 
big brim, not unlike the late Leghorn flats. Another hat, not 
unlike it in shape, was made of woven horse-hair, wove in 
flowers, and called "horse-hair bonnets," — an article which 
might be again usefully introduced for children's wear as an 
enduring hat for long service. I have seen what was called a 
bath bonnet, made of black satin, and so constructed to lie 
in folds that it could be set upon like a chapeaii bras, — a good 
article now for travelling ladies. " The musk-melon " bonnet, 
used before the Revolution, had numerous whalebone stiffen- 
ers in the crown, set at an inch apart, in parallel lines, and 
presenting ridges to the eye, between the bones. The next 
bonnet was the "whalebone bonnet," having only the bones 
in the front as stiffeners. " A calash bonnet " was always 
formed of green silk. It was worn abroad, covering the head ; 
but when in rooms it could fall back in folds, like the springs of 
a calash or gig-top : to keep it up over the head, it was drawn 
up by a cord always held in the hands of the wearer. The 
" wagon bonnet," always of black silk, was an article exclu- 
sively in use among the Friends ; was deemed to look, on the 
head, not unlike the top of the Jersey wagons, and having a 
pendent piece of like silk hanging from the bonnet, and cover- 
ing the shoulders. The only straw wear was that called the 
" straw beehive bonnet," worn generally by old people. 

The ladies once wore "hollow-breasted stays," which were 
exploded as injurious to the health. Then came the use of 
straight stays. Even little girls wore such stays. At one 
time the gowns worn had no fronts : the design was to dis- 
play a finely-quilted Marseilles, silk, or satin petticoat, and a 
bare stomacher on the waist. In other dresses, a white apron 



LADIES' DRESS. 23/ 

was the mode. All wore large pockets under their gowns. 
Among the caps was the " queen's nightcap," — the same 
always worn by Lady Washington. The " cushion head- 
dress " was of gauze stiffened out in cylindrical form with 
white spiral wire. The border of the cap was called the bal- 
cony. 

A lady of my acquaintance thus describes the recollections 
of her early days preceding the War of Independence : Dress- 
was discriminative and appropriate, both as regarded the sea- 
son, and the character of the wearer. Ladies never wore the 
same dresses at work and on visits. They sat at home, or 
went out in the morning, in chintz : brocades, satins, and 
mantuas, were reserved for evening or dinner parties. Robes, 
or 7iegligees^ as they were called, were always worn in full 
dress. Muslins were not worn at all. Little misses at a 
dancing-school ball (for these were almost the only fetes that 
fell to their share in the days of discrimination) were dressed 
in frocks of lawn or cambric. Worsted was then thought dress 
enough for common days. 

As a universal fact, it may be remarked that no other color 
than black was ever made for ladies' bonnets, when formed of 
silk or satin. Fancy colors were unknown ; and white bonnets 
of silk fabric had never been seen. The first innovation 
remembered was the bringing-in of blue bonnets. The time 
was, when the plainest women among the Friends (now so 
averse to fancy colors) wore their colored silk aprons, say of 
green, blue, &c. This was at a time when the gay wore white 
aprons. In time, white aprons were disused by the gentry; 
and then the Friends left off their colored ones, and used the 
white. The same old ladies among Friends whom we can 
remember as wearers of the white aprons, wore, also, large 
white beaver hats, with scarcely the sign of a crown, and 
which were, indeed, confined to the head by silk cords tied 
under the chin. Eight dollars would buy such a hat when 
beaver fur was more plentiful. They lasted such ladies almost 
a whole life of wear. They showed no fur. Very decent 
women went abroad and to churches with check aprons. I 



238 PEJVJVS YL VA NIA. 

have seen those who kept their coach in my time, to bear 
them to church, who told me they went on foot with a check 
apron, to the Arch-street Presbyterian meeting in their youth. 
Then all hired women wore short-gowns and petticoats of 
domestic fabric, and could be instantly known as such when- 
ever seen abroad. 

Watches. 

In the old time, shagreen-cased watches of turtle-shell and 
pinchbeck were the earliest kind seen ; but watches of any 
kind were much more rare then. When they began to come 
into use, they were so far deemed a matter of pride and show, 
that men are living who have heard public friends express 
their concern at seeing their youth in the show of watches or 
watch-chains. It was so rare to find watches in common use, 
that it was quite an annoyance at the watchmakers to be so 
repeatedly called on by street-passengers for the hour of the 
day. Mr. Duffield, therefore, first set up an outdoor clock to 
give the time of day to people in the street. Gold chains 
would have been a wonder then : silver and steel chains and 
seals were the mode, and regarded good enough. The best 
gentlemen of the country were content with silver watches, 
although gold ones were occasionally used. Gold watches 
for ladies were a rare occurrence, and, when worn, were kept 
without display for domestic use. 

The Furniture of a House. 
Formerly there were no sideboards ; and, when they were 
first introduced after the Revolution, they were much smaller, 
and less expensive, than now. Formerly they had couches of 
worsted damask, and only in very affluent families, in lieu of 
what we now call sofas, or lounges. Plain people used settees 
and settles : the latter had a bed concealed in the seat, and, 
by folding the top of it outwards to the front, it exposed the 
bed, and widened the place for the bed to be spread upon it. 
This, homely as it might now be regarded, was a common 
sitting-room appendage, and was a proof of more attention to 
comfort than display. It had, as well as the settee, a very 



THE FURNITURE OF A HOUSE. 239 

high back of plain boards; and the whole was of white pine, 
generally unpainted, and whitened well with unsparing scrub- 
bing. Such was in the poet's eye, when pleading for his 
sofa, — 

" But restless \\-as the seat ; the back erect 
Distressed the \vear\- loins that felt no ease." 

They were a very common article in very good houses, and 
were generally the proper property of the oldest members of 
the family, unless occasionally used to stretch the weary 
length of tired boys. They were placed before the fireplaces 
in the %yinter to keep the back guarded from wind and cold. 
Formerly there were no Windsor chairs ; and fancy chairs are 
still more modern. Their chairs of the genteelest kind were 
of mahogany or red walnut (once a great substitute for ma- 
hogany in all kinds of furniture, tables, (Sec), or else they 
were of rush-bottoms, and made of maple posts and slats, 
with high backs and perpendicular.^ Instead of japanned 
waiters, as now, they had mahogany tea boards and round tea- 
tables, which, being turned on an axle underneath the centre, 
stood upright, like an expanded fan or palm-leaf in the corner. 
Another corner was occupied by a beaufet, which was a cor- 
ner closet with a glass door, in which all the china of the 
family, and the plate, were intended to be displayed for orna- 
ment, as well as use. A conspicuous article in the collection 
was always a great china punch-bowl, which furnished a fre- 
quent and grateful beverage; for wine -drinking was then 
much less in vogue. China teacups and saucers were about 
half their present size ; and china teapots and coffeepots with 
silver nozzles were a mark of superior finery. The sham of 
plated ware was not then known ; and all who showed a silver 
service had the massive metal too. This occurred in the 
wealthy families in little coffee and tea pots ; and a silver tank- 
ard for good sugared toddy was above vulgar entertainment. 
Where we now use earthenware, they then used delftware 

' When the first Windsor chairs were introduced, they were universally green, 
— 7. F. Watson. 



240 PENNS YL VAJVIA. 

imported from England ; and, instead of queen's-ware (then 
unknown), pewter platters and porringers, made to shine along 
a "dresser," were universal. Some, and especially the coun- 
try-people, ate their meals from wooden trenchers. Gilded 
looking-glasses, and picture-frames of golden glare, were un- 
known ; and both, much smaller than now, were used. Small 
pictures painted on glass, with black mouldings for frames, 
with a scanty touch of gold-leaf in the corners, were the adorn- 
ment of a parlor. The looking-glasses in two plates, if 
large, had either glass frames, figured with flowers engraved 
thereon, or were of scalloped mahogany, or of Dutch wood 
scalloped, painted white or black, with here and there some 
touches of gold. Every householder in that day deemed it 
essential to his convenience and comfort to have an ample 
chest of drawers in his parlor or sitting-room, in which the 
linen and clothes of the family were always of ready access. 
It was no sin to rummage them before company. These 
drawers were sometimes nearly as high as the ceiHng. At 
other times, they had a writing-desk about the centre, with a 
falling lid to write upon when let down. A great high clock- 
case, reaching to the ceiling, occupied another corner ; and a 
fourth corner was appropriated to the chimney-place. They 
then had no carpets on their floors, and no paper on their 
walls. The silver-sand on the floor was drawn into a variety 
of fanciful figures and twirls with the sweeping-brush ; and 
much skill and pride was displayed therein in the devices and 
arrangement. They had then no argand or other lamps in 
parlors ; ^ but dipped candles, in brass or copper candlesticks, 
were usually good enough for common use ; and those who 
occasionally used mould candles made them at home, in little 
tin frames, casting four to six candles in each. A glass 
lantern with square sides furnished the entry- lights in the 
houses of the affluent. Bedsteads then were made, if fine, 
of carved mahogany, of slender dimensions ; but for cora- 



1 The first which ever came to this country is in my possession, originally a pres- 
ent from Thomas Jefferson to Charles Thomson. — J. F. Watson. 



AN OLD-FASHIONED APPRENTICE. 24 1 

mon purposes, or for the families of good tradesmen, they 
were of poplar, and always painted green. It was a matter of 
universal concern to have them low enough to answer the 
purpose of repose for sick or dying persons, — a provision so 
necessary for such possible events, now so httle regarded by 
the modern practice of ascending to a bed by steps, like 
clambering up to a hay-mow. 

Tea and Chocolate. 

In the olden time it was the fashion, in some parts of the 
country, to serve a dish of chocolate, which had just then come 
into use, in a curious style. The height of the fashion was 
to put into the kettle of chocolate several links of sausages, 
and, after boiling all together, to serve the guests with a bowl 
of chocolate and a sausage, which was cut up, and then the 
mess eaten with a spoon. When tea was first introduced into 
Salem, the usual mode of serving it up was to boil the tea in 
an iron kettle, and, after straining the liquor off, the boiled 
herb was put into a dish, and buttered. This was eaten, while 
the liquid decoction was drank without sugar or milk, to wash 
down the greens. But this is nothing to be compared to the 
exquisite breakfast which was in common vogue among the 
people of Salem some eighty or ninety years since. The sour 
household-brewed beer was put on in the great brass kettle, 
and simmered over the fire, with the crusts of the brown-bread 
crumbed in, and occasionally dulcified with a little molasses. 
This was served up hot to the family, under the name of 
" Whistle-belly-vengeance." Surely the modern mode of tak- 
ing tea in French porcelain gilt cups, with patent loaf-sugar 
and cream, stirred with a silver spoon, is more delicate, refined, 
and elegant. 

An Old-fashioned Apprentice. 

Only figure to yourselves, readers, a young man of eighteen 
years of age, of good proportions, handsome face, and bloom- 
ing with beauty, dressed in a pair of deerskin breeches coming 
hardly down to his knees, which, before they could be allowed 
16 



242 PENNSYLVANIA. 

to come into the presence of the ladies at meeting on the sab- 
bath, were regularly blacked up on the preceding Saturda}* night, 
at the dye-kettle of Deacon Holman, in order to give them a 
clean and fresh appearance for the Sunday. Imagine his legs 
covered up to the knees with a pair of blue woollen-yarn stock- 
ings, his feet incased with a thick and substantial pair of 
shoes, well greased, and ornamented with a pair of small brass 
buckles, a present from his master for his good behavior. 
Imagine that he wore a speckled shirt all the week, and a white 
one on Sunday, which was always carefully taken off as soon 
as he returned from meeting, folded up, and laid by for the 
next sabbath. Imagine that the leather breeches, after se\ eral 
years' wear, got greasy as they grew old, and were only flexible 
so long as they were on, and kept warm by the superflux of 
youthful heat. 

Imagine, that in the morning of a cold day in January, when 
the snow which had blown into the bed-chamber through the 
broken pane, or through the crevices of an old garret, had 
filled the breeches, and stiffened them almost into horn, — 
imagine, we say, this young apprentice shaking out the snow, 
and pulling them on. It makes us shudder to think of it, and 
to commiserate the poor hapless wight, who had to warm them 
into flexibility by some of that superabundant heat which had 
been acquired by lying warm in a straw bed, covered up by a 
good, substantial woollen rug, before he could move his legs 
down stairs to kindle a fire for his master. What a contrast 
between the dress of an apprentice now, and a fellow-sufferer 
seventy years since ! 

A Superstitious Tailor. 

Col. Thomas Forrest, who died in 1828, at the age of 
eighty-three, had been in his early days a youth of much 
frolic and fun, always well disposed to give time and applica- 
tion to forward a joke. He found much to amuse himself in 
the credulity of some of the German families. I have heard 
him relate some of his anecdotes of the prestigious kind with 
much humor. When he was about twenty-one years of age, 



A SUPERSTITIOUS TAILOR. 243 

a tailor who was measuring him for a suit of clothes hap- 
pened to say, " Ah ! Thomas, if you and I could only find 
some of the money of the sea-robbers (the pirates), we might 
drive our coach for life." The sincerity and simplicity with 
which he uttered this caught the attention of young Forrest ; 
and, when he went home, he began to devise some scheme to 
be amused with his credulity and superstition. There was a 
prevailing belief, that the pirates had hidden many sums of 
money, and much of treasure, about the banks of the Dela- 
ware. Forrest got an old parchment, on which he wrote the 
dying-testimony of one John Hendricks, executed at Tyburn 
for piracy, in which he stated that he had deposited a chest 
and pot of money at Cooper's Point in the Jerseys. This 
parchment he smoked, and gave to it the appearance of anti- 
quity; and, calling on his German tailor, he told him he had 
found it among his father's papers, who had got it in En- 
gland from the prisoner, whom he visited in prison. This he 
showed to the tailor as a precious paper which he could by 
no means lend out of his hand. This operated the desired 
effect. 

Soon after, the tailor called on Forrest with one Ambruster, a 
printer, whom he introduced as capable of "printing any spirit 
out of hell," by his knowledge of the black art. He asked to 
show him the parchment. He was delighted with it, and confi- 
dently said he could conjure Hendricks to give up the money. 
A time was appointed to meet in an upper room of a public- 
house in Philadelphia, by night ; and the innkeeper was let 
into the secret by Forrest. By the night appointed, they had 
prepared by a closet a communication with a room above their 
sitting-room, so as to lower down by a pulley the invoked ghost, 
who was represented by a young man entirely sewed up in a 
close white dress, on which were painted black-eyed sockets, 
mouth, and bare ribs with dashes of black between them, the 
outside and inside of the legs and thighs blackened, so as to 
make white bones conspicuous there. About twelve persons 
met in all, seated around a table. Ambruster shuffled and read 
out cards, on which were inscribed the names of the New 



244 PENNS YL VAN/ A. 

Testament saints, telling them he should bring Hendricks to 
encompass the table, visible or invisible he could not tell. 
At the words, " John Hendricks, du verjluchter^ cum /ie?-a7is,''^ 
the pulley was heard to reel, the closet-door to fly open, and 
John Hendricks, with ghastly appearance, to stand forth. The 
whole were dismayed, and fled, save Forrest the brave. After 
this, Ambruster, on whom they all depended, declared that he 
had by spells got permission to take up the money. A day 
was therefore appointed to visit the Jersey shore, and to dig 
there by night. The parchment said it lay between two great 
stones. Forrest, therefore, prepared two black men to be 
entirely naked, except white petticoat breeches ; and these 
were to jump each on the stone whenever they came to the 
pot which had been previously put there. These frightened 
off the company for a little. When they next essayed, they 
were assailed by cats tied two and two, to whose tails were 
spiral papers of gunpowder, which illuminated and whizzed, 
while the cats whawled. The pot was at length got up, and 
brought in great triumph to Philadelphia wharf; but oh, sad 
disaster ! while helping it out of the boat, Forrest, who man- 
aged it, and was handing it up to the tailor, trod upon the 
gunnel, and filled the boat, and, holding on to the pot, dragged 
the tailor into the river — it was lost ! For years afterwards, 
they reproached Forrest for that loss, and declared he had got 
the chest himself, and was enriched thereby. He favored the 
conceit, until at last they actually sued him on a writ of 
treasure-trove ; but their lawyer was persuaded to give it up 
as idle. 

Washington in Philadelphia. 

While Washington lived in Philadelphia as president, he had 
his formal levee visits every two weeks, on Tuesday afternoon, 
which were understood by himself to be given by \\\^ president 
of the United States, and not on his own account. He was 
therefore not to be seen by any and every body, but required 
that every one should be introduced by his secretary, or by 
some gentlemen whom he knew himself. The place of recep- 
tion was the dining-room in the rear, — a room of about thirty 



WASHINGTON IN PHILADELPHIA. 245 

feet in length. Mrs. Washington received lier visitors in the 
two rooms on the second floor from front to rear. 

At three o'clocI<:, the visitor was introduced to this dining 
room, from whicli all seats had been removed for the time. 
On entering, he saw the tall, manly figure of Washington, clad 
in black silk velvet, his hair in full dress, powdered, and 
gathered behind in a large silk bag; yellow gloves on his 
hands, holding a cocked hat with a black cockade in it, and 
the edges adorned witli a black feather about an inch deep. 
He wore knee and shoe buckles, and a long sword. He 
stood always in front of the fireplace, with his face towards 
the door of entrance. The visitor was conducted to him, and 
his name distinctly announced. He received his visitor with 
a dignified bow, in a manner avoiding to shake hands, even 
with best friends. As visitors came, they formed a circle 
round the room ; and, at a quarter-past three, the door was 
closed, and the circle was formed for that day. He then 
began on the right, and spake to each visitor, calling him by 
name, and exchanging a few words. When he had completed 
this circuit, he resumed his first position ; and the visitors 
approaching him in succession, bowed and retired. By four 
o'clock, this ceremony was over. These facts have been 
learned in general from the reminiscences of Gen. Sullivan. 

Mrs. Washington's levees were every Friday evening, at 
which occasion the general was always present. It was an 
occasion for emulous and aspiring belles to essay to win his 
attention. But he was never familiar : his countenance uni- 
formly, even there, preserved its habitual gravity. A lady of 
his family said it was his habit, also, when without company, 
and that she only remembered him to have once made a hearty 
laugh in a narrative and incident in which she was a party. 
The truth w^as, his deportment was unavoidably grave : it was 
sobriety, stopping short of sadness. His presence inspired 
a veneration and a feeling of awe rarely experienced in the 
presence of any man. His mode of speaking was slow and 
deliberate ; not as though he was in search of fine words, but 
that he might utter those only adapted to his purposes. 



246 PENNSYLVANIA. 

When Congress agreed by law to rest at Philadelphia ten 
years, the legislature of Pennsylvania voted a large edifice 
for Gen. Washington as President, in South Ninth Street 
(the site of the present university) ; but the president, when he 
saw it, would not occupy it, because of the great expense to 
furnish it at his own cost ; for then the nation never thought 
of that charge to their account. His dinner-parties were 
given every Thursday at four o'clock precisely, never waiting 
for any guests. His company usually assembled fifteen to 
twenty minutes before dinner, in the drawing-room. H2 
always dressed in a suit of black, sword by his side, and 
hair powdered. Mrs. Washington often, but not always, 
dined with the company ; and, if there were ladies present, 
they sat on each side of her. Mr. Lear, his private secretary, 
sat at the foot of the table, and was expected to be specially 
attentive to all the guests. The president himself sat half 
way from the head to the foot of the table, and on that side 
which would place Mrs. Washington, though distant from 
him, on his right hand. He always asked a blessing at his 
own table, and in a standing posture. If a clergyman was 
present, he asked him to do It. The dishes were always with- 
out covers : a small roll of bread enclosed in a napkin was on 
the side of each plate. The president generally dined on one 
dish, and that of a very simple kind. He avoided the first 
or second course, as " too rich for me." He had a silver 
pint cup or mug of beer placed by his plate, of which he 
drank : he took but one glass of wine at dinner, and com- 
monly one after. He then retired (the ladies having gone a 
little before), leaving his secretary to tarry with the wine- 
bibbers while they might further remain. There were placed 
upon his table, as ornaments, sundry alabaster mythological 
figures of about two feet high. The centre of the table con- 
tained five or six large silver or plated waiters. The table 
itself was of an oval shape : at the end were also some silver 
waiters of an oval form. It was the habit of Gen. Washing- 
ton to go every day, at twelve o'clock, to set his watch at 
Clark's standard, south-east corner of Front and High Streets. 



^ WASHINGTON IN PHILADEIPHIA. 24/ 

There all the porters took off their hats, and stood uncovered, 
till he turned and went back again. He always bowed to 
such salutation, and lifted his hat in turn. 

Washington's coach was presented to him, it is said, by 
Louis XVL, King of France, as a mark of personal esteem 
and regard. Others have said it had been brought out for the 
late Gov. Penn. It was cream-colored, globular in its shape, 
and capacious within ; ornamented in the French style, with 
Cupids supporting festoons, and wreaths of flowers, em- 
blematically arranged along the panel work ; the figures and 
flowers beautifully covered with fine glass, very white and 
dazzHng to the eye of youth and simplicity in such matters. 
It was drawn sometimes by four, but in common by two, very 
elegant Virginia bays, with long switch tails and splendid 
harness, and driven by a German, tall and muscular, possess- 
ing an aquiline nose. He wore a cocked hat, square to the 
front, seemingly, in imitation of his principal, but thrown a 
little back upon his long cue^ and presenting to the memory a 
figure not unlike the one of Frederick of Prussia, upon the 
sign in Race Street : he exhibited an important air, and was 
evidently proud of his charge. On the death of Washington, 
this coach found its way to New Orleans, after the purchase 
of Louisiana; and there, being found at a plantation in the 
time of Packenham's invasion, got riddled with shot, and 
destroyed. The chief of its iron work has since been used 
in the palisade to H. Milne's grave. 

On Sunday mornings, at the gate of Christ Church, the 
appearance of this coach, awaiting the breaking-up of the 
service, never failed in drawing a crowd of persons, eager, 
when he came forth, for another view of this nobleman of 
nature, and stamping with their feet in freezing weather upon 
the pavement to keep them warm the while. The indistinct 
sounds of the concluding voluntary upon the organ within 
were no sooner heard by them than the press became formida- 
ble, considering the place and the day. During the slow 
movement of the dense crowd of worshippers issuing from 
the opened door, and the increased volume of sound from the 



248 PENNS YL VANIA. 

organ, it was not necessary for the stranger visiting the city, 
and straining his vision to behold the general for the first 
time, to inquire of his jostled neighbor, "Which is he?" 
There could be no mistake in this matter : Washington was 
to be known at once. 

His noble height and commanding air; his person envel- 
oped in, what was not very common in those days, a rich blue 
Spanish cloak faced with red silk velvet, thrown over the left 
shoulder ; his easy, unconstrained movement ; his inimitable 
expression of countenance, on such occasions beaming with 
mild dignity and beneficence combined ; his patient demeanor 
in the crowd, emerging from it to the eye of the beholder, 
like the bright silvery moon at night from the edge of a dark 
cloud ; his gentle bendings of the neck to the right and to 
the left, parentally, and expressive of delighted feelings on 
his part, — these, with the appearance of the awed and 
charmed and silent crowd of spectators gently falling back 
on each side as he approached, unequivocally announced 
to the gazing stranger, as with the voice of one "trumpet- 
tongued," Behold the man ! 

The Chevalier du B c.^ 

It was about the year 1792, that the Duke of OrMans, — 
now Louis Philippe, King of France, — accompanied by his 
two brothers, Montpensier and Beaujolais, came to the western 
country. On arriving in Pittsburg, then a small village, they 
found one or two emigre's^ who had formerly filled prominent 
stations under the ancien regime, but who were now earning 
a scanty subsistence in carrying on some little business of 

merchandise. One of them, the Chevalier du B c, one 

of the worthiest of men, and an admirable philosopher, kept a 
little shop, then denominated, par excellence, a confectionery. 
The articles (and the only ones, by the way) entitling the 
chevalier's establishment to this attractive name were the 
kernels of hazelnuts, walnuts, and peach-stones, enclosed in 

* This reminiscence was contributed to Watson's Annals by Morgan Neville. 



THE CHEVALIER DU B C. 249 

an envelope of burnt maple-sugar, fabricated by the skilful 

hands of the chevalier himself. Du B c was the most 

popular citizen of the village. He had a monkey of admirable 
quahties ; and his pointer (Sultan) could, like the dog in the 
Arabian Nights, tell counterfeit money from good: at least, 
the honest folks who supplied our little market with chickens 
and butter thought so, and that was the same thing. It was 
amusing to hear the master of the shop calling his two fami- 
liars to aid him in selecting the good from the bad " 'leven- 
penny-bits." " Allons, Sultan, tell dcse good ladie de good 
money from de counterfait." Then followed the important con- 
sultation between the dog and the monkey. Pug grinned, 
and scratched his sides : Sultan smelled, and in due time 
scraped the money into the drawer. As there were no coun- 
terfeit " 'leven-pences," Sultan seldom failed. " Madame," 
would my friend say to the blowzy country lass, " Sultan is like 
de pope : he is infallible." Sultan and Bijou laid the foun- 
dation of this excellent man's fortune. They brought crowds 
of custom to the shop ; and in two or three years he was 
enabled to convert his little business into a handsome fancy 
store. An attraction was then added to the establishment, 
that diverted a portion of the public admiration from Sultan 
and the monkey : this was a Dutch clock, with a goodly 
portion of gilding, and two or three white-and-red figures in 
front : before striking, it played a waltz. It was inestimable. 
This music had never before been heard in the West ; and those 
who have been brought up amidst the everlasting grinding of 
our present museums can have no conception of the excite- 
ment caused by our chevalier's clock. In those days, every 
unique piece of furniture, or rare toy, was believed to have 
formed a part of the spolia opiina of the French Revolution ; 
and most generally they were set down as the property of 
the Queen of France. It was soon insinuated abroad, that 
the chevalier's clock formed one of the rare ornaments of the 
boudoir of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. When he was 
asked how much it cost, he evaded the question with admi- 
rable casuistry. " Ah, mon ami," he would say with sincere 



250 PENNS YL VANIA. 

tristesse, "the French Revolution produce some terrible effect : 
it was great sacrifice : it is worth fifteen hundred franche 
guiney." That, and the dog and the monkey, were worth to 
the chevalier fifteen thousand dollars ; for he realized this sum 
in a few years, from a foundation of a few pounds of sugar 
and a peck of hazelnuts. 

Such was the Chevalier du B c in his magazine ; and he 

was a perfect illustration of the French character of that 
day. It would accommodate itself to any situation in life. It 
enabled the minister of marine to become, like Bedredden, a 
pastry-cook, and young Egalite, the present^ King of France, 
a schoolmaster in Canada. But this is only one side of the 

picture. Du B c, when he closed his shop, and entered 

into society, was the delight of his auditory. He was an 
accomplished scholar, possessed the most polished manners 
and habits of la vieille coicr. He was a younger son ; or, as 
the French .people call it, he was the "cadet" of a noble 
family. He had travelled much, and observed profoundly. 
He had been to the Holy Land, not exactly as a palmer, but 
being attache a la legation Fraiicaise at Constantinople, of 
which his relation, Sauf Boeuf, was the head, he took the op- 
portunity of travelling through as much of Asia as was usually 
examined by European travellers. Such was my early friend 

Du B c, to whose instructions and fine belles-lettres 

acquirements, I am indebted for some of the most unalloyed 
enjoyments of my life, by opening to me some of the richest 
treasures of French literature ; and such was the man whom 
the sons of Orleans found in a frontier American village. I 
do not remember the definite destination of the interesting 

strangers ; but certain it is, that the Chevalier du B c 

induced them to while away a much longer period in Pittsburg 
than could have been their original intention. He proposed 
to Gen. N , whose house was always the temple of hos- 
pitality, where he was in the habit of dining every Sunday, 
and at whose table and fireside the unfortunate emigi-e was 

» Written in 1843. 



THE CHEVALIER DU B C. 25 1 

sure to find a hearty welcome, to introduce the travellers. 
The general at first received the proposition with coldness. 
He said he had been a soldier of the Revolution, the intimate 
of Rochambeau and Lafayette, and of course entertained a 
feeling of the deepest respect for the memory of the unfor- 
tunate Louis, not as a monarch, but as a most amiable and 
virtuous man. He insisted that no good could spring from 
the infamous exciter of the Jacobins, the profligate Egalite. 
" Mais, mon general (said the chevalier with a shrug of the 
shoulders, and most melancholy contortion of his wrinkled 
features), ils sont dans les plus grande misere, et ils ont ete 
chasse, comme nous autres, par ces vilains sans culottes." 
The chevalier knew his man; and the bon hoinmie of the 
general prevailed. " Eh, bien ! chevalier, allez, rendre nos 
devoirs aux voyageurs, et qu'ils dinent chez nous demain." 
The strangers accepted the courtesy, and became intimate 
with and attached to the family of the kind-hearted American. 
The charms of the conversation of the Duke of Orleans, and 
his various literary attainments, soon obliterated, for the 
moment, the horrible career of his father, from the minds of 
his hearers. If my boyish recollection is faithful, he was 
rather taciturn and melancholy. He would be perfectly ab- 
stracted from conversation, sometimes for half an hour, look- 
ing steadfastly at the coal-fire that blazed in the grate ; and, 
when roused from his revery, he would apologize for this 
breach of biensdance, and call one of the children who were 
learning French to read to him. On these occasions I have 
read to him many passages selected by him from Telemaque. 
The beautiful manner in which he read the description of 
Calypso's Grotto is still fresh in my memory. He seldom 
adverted to the scenes of the Revolution ; but he criticised the 
battles of that period, particularly that of Jemapes, with such 
discrimination as to convince the military men of Pittsburg, 
of whom there were several, that he was peculiarly fitted to 
shine in the profession of arms. 

Montpensier, the second brother, has left no mark on the 
tablet of memory by which I can recall him ; but Beaujolais, 



252 PENNS YL VANIA. 

the young and interesting Beaujolais, is still before " my mind's 
eye." There was something romantic in his character ; and 
Madame de Genlis' romance, " The Knights of the Swan," in 
which that charming writer so beautifully apostrophizes her 
young ward, had just prepared every youthful bosom to lean 
towards this accomplished boy. He was tall and graceful, and 
playful as a child. He was a universal favorite. He was a 
few years older than myself ; but, when together, we appeared 
to be of the same age, A transient cloud of melancholy 
would occasionally pass over his fine features in the midst of 
his gayest amusements ; but it disappeared quickly, like the 
white cloud of summer. We then ascribed it to a boyish 
recollection of the luxuries and splendors of the Palais Royal, 
in which he had passed his early life, which he might be con- 
trasting with the simple domestic scene which was passing 
before him. It was, however, probably in some measure im- 
putable to the first sensation of that disease, which, in a few 
short years afterwards, carried him to the grave. 

One little circumstance made a singular impression on me. 
I was standing one day with this group of Frenchmen, on the 
bank of the Monongahela, when a countryman of theirs, 
employed in the quartermaster's department, as a laborer, in 
taking care of the flat-boats, passed by. Pierre Cabot, or, as 
he was familiarly called, French Peter, was dressed in a 
blanket capot, with a hood in place of a hat, in the manner of 

the Canadian boatmen, and in moccasons. Du B c called 

after him, and introduced him to the French princes. The 
scene presented a subject for moralizing, even for a boy : on 
the banks of the Ohio, and in exile, the representative of the 
first family of a nation who held rank of higher importance 
than any other nation in Europe, took by the hand in a friendly 
and familiar conversation his countryman, whose lot was cast 
among the dregs of the people, and who would not have 
aspired to the honor of letting down the steps of the carriage 
of the man with whom he here stood on a level. 

Peter was no Jacobin : he had emigrated from France 
before the philosophic Robespierre and his colleagues had en- 



THE CHEVALIER DU B C. 253 

lightened their fellow-citizens, and opened their eyes to the 
propriety of vulgar brutality and ferocity. Honest Cabot, 
therefore, felt all the love and veneration for the princes, which 
Frenchmen under the old regime never failed to cherish for 
members of the grand 7Ji07iarqiie. I was a great favorite 
with old Peter. The next time I met him, he took me in his 
arms, and exclaimed with tears in his eyes, " Savez-vous, mon 
enfant, ce qui m'est arrive j'ai cu I'honneur de causer avec 
/ monseigneur, en pleine rue ? Ah ! bon Dieu, quelle chose 
affreuse que la revolution ! " 

The brothers, on quitting Pittsburg, left a most favorable 
impression on the minds of the little circle in which they were 
received so kindly. The recollection of the amiable Beaujo- 
lais was particularly cherished ; and when the news of his 
death in Sicily, a few years after, reached the West, the family 
circle of Gen. N expressed the sincerest sorrow. 

The Chevalier du B c, after realizing a snug fortune by 

industry and economy, removed to Philadelphia, to have the op- 
portunity of minghng more with his countrymen. On the res- 
toration of the Bourbons, his friends induced him to return to 
France to resume the former rank of his family. But it was too 
late : the philosophical emigrant had lived too long in American 
seclusion to relish the society of Paris, or habits had changed 
there too much to be recognized by him. The following is a 
translation of a paragraph from one of his letters to his old 
friend, the late Gen. N , soon after his arrival in Paris. 

" I must bear witness to the improvement and advancement 
of my country since the Revolution : as a man, however, I 
cannot but mourn. The storm has not left a single shrub of 
my once numerous family ; the guillotine has drunk the blood 
of all my race ; and I now stand on the verge of the grave, the 
dust of a name whose pride it once was to trace its history 
through all the distinguished scenes of French history for 
centuries back. With the eloquent savage, Logan, whose 
speech you have so often read to me, I can say, that ' not a 
drop of my blood runs in the veins of any living creature.' I 
must return to America, and breathe my last on that soil 
where my most contented days were passed." 



254 PENNS YL VANIA. 

The chevalier never returned, however : he lingered away 
his time in the different seaports of France ; and he died at 
last in the city of Bordeaux. 

The Ephratah Institution. 

There was, as early as 1732 to 1740, a very remarkable 
religious sect of Germans formed at Ephratah, intended to 
live in a monastic life : in time, it also included a separate 
sisterhood. They formed a considerable town, and grew in 
wealth by their industry, and rise of value in lands. At one 
time, they were many in number, but now have dwindled away. 
They were undoubtedly sincere and exemplary in their religious 
principles and actions. Dr. W. M. Fahnestock of Harrisburg, 
who lately united himself to them, and has probably become 
one of their preachers, has given a long and interesting 
historical sketch of this people, in Hazard's Register of 1835. 
They were remarkable as a community, in being fine Latinists, 
writing and speaking Latin as readily as their vernacular 
tongue. Men of wealth in Philadelphia, who sought good 
classical education for their sons, used to send them there ; 
and I have known some educated there who used to corre- 
spond with some of the brotherhood in Latin. But, above all, 
they were peculiar for their superior music and singing. It 
was this last attraction which first allured young Dr. Fahne- 
stock to their meetings ; and when his heart was touched, like 
St. Augustine's, he readily fell into sympathy with their re- 
ligion, — a thing in itself found needful, in some way, for aU 
men who come to think considerately. 

Their music was so peculiar as to deserve some special men- 
tion, " not as music for the ear, but as music for the soul." 
One of their leaders, Beissel, was a first-rate musician and 
composer. 

In composing sacred music, he took his style from the music 
of Nature ; and the whole, comprising several large volumes, 
are founded on the tones of the /Eolian harp : the singing is 
the iEolian harp harmonized. It is very peculiar in its style 
and concords, and in its execution. The tones issuing from 



THE EPHRA TA H INS TITUTION. 255 

the choir imitate very soft instrumental music, conveying a 
softness and devotion almost superhuman to the auditor. 
Their music is set in two, four, five, and seven parts. All the 
parts, save the bass, are led and sung exclusively by females, 
the men being confined to the bass, which is set in two parts, 
— the high and low bass, the latter resembhng the deep tones of 
the organ ; and the first, in combination with one of the female 
parts, is an excellent imitation of the concert-horn. The whole 
is sung on Xho. falsetto voice, the singers scarcely opening their 
mouths, or moving their lips, which throws the voice up to the 
ceiling, which is not high ; and the tones, which seem to be 
more than human, at least, so far from common church sing- 
ing, appear to be entering from above, and hovering over the 
heads of the assembly. Their singing so charmed the com- 
missioners who were sent to visit the society by the English 
Government, after the French war, that they requested a copy 
to be sent to the royal family in England, which was cheerfully 
complied with, and which, I understand, is still preserved in 
the National Library. About twelve months afterwards, a box 
was received, of three or four feet long, and two or two and a 
half wide, containing a present in return. What the present 
was is not now certainly known, none having seen it but 
Friedsam and Jabez, who was then prior, and into whose 
care it was consigned. It was buried secretly by him with the 
advice of Beissel. It is supposed, by a hint given by Jabez, 
that it was images of the king and queen in full costume, or 
images of the Saviour on the cross, and the Virgin Mary ; sup- 
posing, as many in this country have erroneously thought, that 
the people of Ephratah possess many of the Catholic principles 
and feelings. The king, at whose instance they were sent, was 
a German ; and we may presume that he considered that they 
retained the same views as the monastic institutions of Europe. 
They have nearly a thousand pieces of music, a piece being 
composed for every hymn. This music is lost entirely now at 
Ephratah, — not the music-books, but the style of singing : they 
never attempt it any more. It is, however, still preserved and 
finely executed, though in a faint degree, at Snowhill, near the 



256 PENNS YL FAAVA. 

Antietam Creek, in Franklin County of this State, where 
there is a branch of the society, and which is now the princi- 
pal settlement of the Seventh Day Baptists. They greatly 
outnumber the people of Ephratah, and are in a very flourish- 
ing condition. There they keep up the institution as originally 
established at Ephratah, and are growing rapidly. Their sing- 
ing, which is weak in comparison with the old Ephratah choir, 
and may be likened to the performance of an overture by a 
musical box, with its execution by a full orchestra in the opera- 
house, is so peculiar and affecting, that, when once heard, it can 
never be forgotten. 

The Entry of the British Army into Philadelphia. 

I can well remember [writes a lady to me] the previous 
gloom spread over the minds of the inhabitants, from the 
time it was thought the enemy would advance through the 
Jerseys ; the very darkest hour of the Revolution appearing to 
me to be that preceding the capture of the Hessians at Trenton. 
The Tories, who favored the government at home (as England 
was then called), became elated, and the Whigs depressed. 
This may account for a good deal of severity that was used 
before the constituted authorities of that time left the city, in 
visiting the inhabitants, and inspecting what stores of pro- 
visions they had, taking, in some instances, what they deemed 
superfluous, especially blankets, of which our army were in 
great need. After the public authorities had left the city, it 
was a very gloomy time indeed. We knew the enemy had 
landed at the head of Elk : but of their procedure and move- 
ments we had but vague information ; for none were left in 
the city in pubhc employ, to whom expresses would be ad- 
dressed. The day of the battle of Brandywine was one of 
deep anxiety. We heard the firing, and knew of an engage- 
ment between the armies, without expecting immediate infor- 
mation of the result, when, towards night, a horseman rode at 
full speed down Chestnut Street, and turned round Fourth to 
the Indian Queen public-house. Many ran to hear what he 
had to tell ; and, as I remember, his account was pretty near 
the truth. He told of Lafayette being wounded. 



ENTRY OF THE BRITISH ARMY. 2$y 

We had for a neighbor and an intimate acquaintance a very 
amiable EngHsh gentleman (H. Gurney), who had been in the 
British army, and had left the service upon marrying a rich 
and excellent lady of Philadelphia some years before. He 
was a person so much liked and esteemed by the public, that 
he remained unmolested at a time when the Committee of 
Public Safety sent many excellent citizens into banishment 
without a hearing, upon the most vague and unfounded sus- 
picion, but contented themselves with only taking his word 
of honor that he would do nothing inimical to the country, 
nor furnish the enemy with any information. He endeavored 
to give my mother confidence that the inhabitants would not 
be ill treated. He advised that we should be all well dressed, 
and that we should keep our houses closed. The army 
marched in, and took possession of the town in the morning. 
We were up stairs, and saw them pass to the State House. 
They looked well, clean, and well clad ; and the contrast be- 
tween them and our own poor, barefooted, and ragged troops, 
was very great, and caused a feeling of despair. It was a 
solemn and impressive day ; but I saw no exultation in the 
enemy, nor, indeed, in those who were reckoned favorable to 
their success. Early in the afternoon. Lord Cornwallis's suite 
arrived, and took possession of my mother's house. But my 
mother was appalled by the numerous train which took pos- 
session of her dwelling, and shrank from having such in- 
mates ; for a guard was mounted at the door, and the yard 
filled with soldiers and baggage of every description. And I 
well remember what we thought of the haughty looks of Lord 
Rawdon ^ and the other aide-de-camp, as they traversed the 
apartments. My mother desired to speak with Lord Corn- 
wallis ; and he attended her in the front-parlor. She told him 
of her situation, and how impossible it would be for her to 
stay in her own house with such a numerous train as com- 
posed his lordship's establishment. He behaved with great 
politeness to her, said he should be sorry to give trouble, and 

* Since the Marquis of Hastings, and who died at Malta in 1S26. 
17 



258 PENNS YL VAN! A. 

would have other quarters looked out for him. They withdrew 
that very afternoon ; and he was accommodated at Peter 
Reeve's, in Second, near to Spruce Street, and we felt very 
glad at the exemption. But it did not last long ; for directly 
the quartermasters were employed in billeting the troops, and 
we had to find room for two officers of artillery, and after- 
wards, in addition, for two gentlemen, secretaries of Lord 
Howe. The officers very generally, I believe, behaved with 
politeness to the inhabitants ; and many of them, upon going 
away, expressed their satisfaction that no injury to the city 
was contemplated by their commander. They said that hv- 
ing among the inhabitants, and speaking the same language, 
made them uneasy at the thought of acting as enemies. 

At first provisions were scarce and dear, and we had to 
live with much less abundance than we had been accustomed 
to. Hard money was, indeed, as difficult to come at as if it 
had never been taken from the mines, except with those who 
had things to sell for the use of the army. They had given 
certificates to the farmers, as they came up through Chester 
County, of the amount of stores they had taken ; and, upon 
these being presented for payment at headquarters, they were 
duly honored. My mother received a seasonable supply in 
this way from persons who were in her debt, and had been 
paid for what the army had taken. Every thing considered, 
the citizens fared better than could have been expected ; and 
though it was extremely disagreeable in many places, on 
account of the dirt, yet the city was healthy. The enemy 
appeared to have a great deal of shipping in the Delaware : I 
counted sixty vessels that looked of large size, moored so 
close to each other, that it seemed as if you could not pass a 
hand between them, near to where the navy-yard now is ; and 
all the wharves and places seemed crowded. There was scarce 
any thing to sell in the shops when they came into the town ; 
and the paper money had depreciated to nothing. I remember 
two pieces of silk that I saw on sale a little before their 
arrival at a hundred dollars per yard. Tea was fifty and sixty 
dollars per pound. 



1 Ml^ 




THE MESCHIANZA AT PHILADELPHIA. 259 

Gen. Howe, during the time he staid in Philadelphia, 
seized and kept for his own use Mary Pemberton's coach and 
horses, in which he used to ride about the town. The old 
officers appeared to be uneasy at his conduct ; and some of 
them freely expressed their opinions. They said, that, before 
his promotion to the chief command, he sought for the coun- 
sels and company of officers of experience and merit ; but 
now his companions were usually a set of boys, — the most 
dissipated fellows in the army. Lord Howe was much more 
sedate and dignified than his brother, — really dignified; for 
he did not seem to affect any pomp or parade. They were 
exceedingly chagrined and surprised at the capture of Bur- 
goyne, and at first would not suffer it to be mentioned. We 
had received undoubted intelligence of the fact in a letter 
from Charles Thomson ; and, upon communicating this cir- 
cumstance to Henry Gurney, his interrogatories forced an 
acknowledgment from some of the superior officers, that it 
was, as he said, " alas, too true ! " 

One of my acquaintance — indeed, an intimate one — per- 
formed the part of a " nymph of the Blended Rose " in the 
splendid festival of the Meschianza ; but I saw no part of the 
show, not even the decorated hall where the knights and 
ladies supped amidst the "grand Salema" of their turbaned 
attendants, nor even the ridotto part, which was gazed at 
from the wharves and warehouses by all the uninvited popu- 
lation of the town. 

The Meschianza at Philadelphia. 

This is the appellation of the most splendid pageant ever 
exhibited in our country, if we except the great " Federal 
Procession " of all trades and professions, through the streets 
of Philadelphia in 1788. The Meschianza was chiefly a tilt 
and tournament, with other entertainments, as the term im- 
plies ; and was given on Monday, the i8th of May, 1778, at 
Wharton's country-seat in Southwark, by the officers of Gen. 
Sir William Howe's army, to that officer, on his quitting the 
command to return to England. A considerable number of our 



26o FENNS YL VANIA. 

city beUes were present, which gave considerable offence after- 
wards to the Whigs, and did not fail to mark the fair as the 
" Tory ladies." The ill-nature and the reproach have long 
since been forgotten. 

The company began to assemble at three to four o'clock, at 
Knight's Wharf, at the water edge of Green Street in the 
Northern Liberties ; and, by half-past four o'clock in the after- 
noon, the whole were embarked, in the pleasant month of 
May, in a '-grand regatta" of three divisions. In the front 
of the whole were three flat-boats, with a band of music in 
each of them, " rowed regular to harmony." As this assem- 
blage of vessels progressed, barges rowed on the flanks, 
"light skimming, stretched their oary wings," to keep off the 
multitude of boats that crowded from the city as beholders ; 
and the houses, balconies, and wharves were filled with spec- 
tators all along the river-side. 

When arrived at the fort below the Swedes' church, they 
formed a line through an avenue of grenadiers, and light- 
horse in the rear. The company were thus conducted to a 
square lawn of one hundred and fifty yards on each side, and 
which was also lined with troops. This area formed the 
ground for a ////, or toitrna7nent. On the front-seat of each 
pavilion were placed seven of the principal young ladies of 
the country, dressed in Turkish habits, and wearing in their 
turbans the articles which they intended to bestow on their 
several gallant knights. Soon the trumpets at a distance 
announced the approach of the seven white knights, habited 
in white and red silk, and mounted on gray chargers richly 
caparisoned in similar colors. These were followed by their 
several esquires on foot. Besides these, there was a herald in 
his robe. These all made the circuit of the square, saluting the 
ladies as they passed ; and then they ranged in line with their 
ladies. Then their herald, Mr. Beaumont, after a flourish of 
trumpets, proclaimed their challenge in the name of "///<? 
lOtights of the Blended Rose,^^ declaring that the ladies of their 
order excel in wit, beauty, and accomplishments those of the 
whole world ; and they are ready to enter the lists against any 



THE MESCHIANZA AT PHILADELPHIA. 26 1 

knights who will deny the same, according to the laws of 
ancient chivalry. At the third repetition of the challenge, a 
sound of trumpets announced the entrance of another herald, 
with four trumpeters dressed in black and orange. The two 
heralds held a parley, when the black herald proceeded to 
proclaim his defiance in the name of ^'■the Knights of the Biirn- 
ing Mountai7iy Then retiring, there soon after entered " the 
black knights " with their esquires, preceded by their herald, 
on whose tunic was represented a mountain sending forth 
flames, and the motto, " I burn forever." 

These seven knights, like the former ones, rode round the 
lists, and made their obeisance to the ladies, and then drew 
up fronting the white knights ; and, the chief of these having 
thrown down his gauntlet, the chief of the black knights 
directed his esquire to take it up. Then the knights received 
their lances from their esquires, fixed their shields on their 
left arms, and, making a general salute to each other by a 
movement of their lances, turned round to take their career, 
and, encountering in full gallop, shivered their spears. In the 
second and third encounter, they discharged their pistols. In 
the fourth, they fought with their swords. 

From the garden, they ascended a flight of steps covered 
with carpets, which led into a spacious hall, the panels of 
which were painted in imitation of Sienna marble, enclosing 
festoons of white marble. In this hall and the adjoining 
apartments were prepared tea, lemonade, &c., to which the 
company seated themselves. At this time, the knights came 
in, and on their knee received their favors from their respec- 
tive ladies. From these apartments, they went up to a ball- 
room, decorated in a light, elegant style of painting, and showing 
many festoons of flowers. The brilliancy of the whole was 
heightened by eighty-five mirrors decked with ribbons and 
flowers ; and in the intermediate spaces were thirty-four 
branches. On the same floor were four drawing-rooms, with 
sideboards of refreshments, decorated and lighted in the style 
of the ball-room. The ball was opened by the knights and 
their ladies ; and the dances continued till ten o'clock, when 



262 PENNS YL VANIA. 

the windows were thrown open, and a magnificent bouquet of 
rockets began the fire-works. These were planned by Capt. 
Montresor, the chief engineer, and consisted of twenty differ- 
ent displays in great variety and beauty, and changing Gen. 
Howe's arch into a variety of shapes and devices. At twelve 
o'clock (midnight), supper was announced ; and large folding- 
doors, before concealed, sprang open, and discovered a mag- 
nificent saloon of two hundred and ten feet by forty feet, and 
twenty-two feet in height, with three alcoves on each side, 
which served for sideboards. The sides were painted with 
vine-leaves and festoon-flowers, and fifty-six large pier-glasses, 
ornamented with green-silk artificial flowers and ribbons. 
There were also one hundred branches trimmed,^ and eighteen 
lustres of twenty-four lights hung from the ceiling. There 
were three hundred wax-tapers on the supper-tables, four hun- 
dred and thirty covers, and twelve hundred dishes. There 
were twenty-four black slaves in Oriental dresses, with silver 
collars and bracelets. 

Towards the close of the banquet, the herald with his 
trumpeters entered, and announced the king and royal family's 
health, with other toasts. Each toast was followed by a 
flourish of music. After the supper, the company returned to 
the ball-room, and continued to dance until four o'clock in the 
morning. I omit to describe the two arches ; but they were 
greatly embellished. They had two fronts, in the Tuscan 
order. The pediment of one was adorned with naval tro- 
phies ; and the other, with military ones. Major Andre, who 
wrote a description of it (although his name is concealed), 
calls it " the most splendid entertainment ever given by an 
army to its general." The whole expense was borne by 
twenty-two field-ofiicers. The managers were Sir John Wrot- 
lesby, Col. O'Hara, Majors Gardiner and Montresor. This 
splendid pageant blazed out in one short night. Next day, 
the enchantment was dissolved ; and in exactly one month all 

* All the mirrors and lustres, &c., were borrowed from the citizens, and were all 
sent home with all their ornaments attached to them as a compliment for their use. 
—y. F. Watson. 



THE MESCHIANZA AT PHILADELPHIA. 263 

these knights, and the whole army, chose to make their march 
from the city of Philadelphia. 

When I think of the few survivors of that gay scene who 
now exist (of some whose sprightliness and beauty are gone), 
I cannot but feel a gloom succeed the recital of the fete. I 
think, for instance, of one who was " then the queen of the 

Meschianza," since Mrs. L , now blind, and fast waning 

from the " things that be." To her I am indebted for many 
facts of illustration. She tells me that the unfortunate Major 
Andre was the charm of the company. Lieut. Andre, his 
esquire, was his brother, a youth of about nineteen, possess- 
ing the promise of an accomplished gentleman. Major Andr^ 
and Capt. Oliver Delancey themselves painted the chief of 
the decorations. The Sienna marble, for instance, on the 
apparent side -walls, was on canvas, in the style of stage-scene 
painting. Andre also painted the scenes used at the theatre 
at which the British officers perfornjed. The proceeds were 
given to the widows and orphans of their soldiers. The 
waterfall scene, drawn by him, was still in the building when 
it lately burnt. She assures me, that, of all that was borrowed 
for the entertainment, nothing was injured or lost. They 
desired to pay double if accidents occurred. The general 
deportment of the officers was very praiseworthy therein. 
There were no ladies of British officers, save Miss Auchmuty, 
the new bride of Capt. Montresor. The American young 
ladies present were not numerous, not exceeding fifty. The 
others were married ladies. Most of our ladies had gone 
from the city ; and what remained were, of course, in great 
demand. The American gentlemen present were aged non- 
combatants. Our young men were Whigs generally, and were 
absent. 

No offence was offered to the ladies afterwards for their 
acceptance of this instance of an enemy's hospitahty. When 
the Americans returned, they got up a great ball to be given 
to the officers of the French army and the American officers 
of Washington's command. When the managers came to 
invite their guests, it was made a question whether the " Mes- 



264 PENNS YL VAN! A. 

chianza ladies " should be invited. It was found they could 
not make up their company without them : they were there- 
fore included. When they came, they looked differently hab- 
ited from those who had gone to the country, " they having 
assumed the high head-dress," &c., of the British fashion ; and 
so the characters, unintentionally, were immediately perceived 
at a glance through the hall. But, lots being cast for partners, 
they were soon fully intermixed ; and conversation ensued as 
if nothing of jealousy had ever existed, and all umbrage was 
forgotten. 

The same lady was also at a splendid supper and dance 
given by Capt. Hammond on board " The Roebuck." The ship 
was fully illuminated ; and one hundred and seventy-two per- 
sons sat down to supper. Miss J. C g, who was also a 

knight's lady, has kindly given me her original invitation from 
Sir Henry Calder (an officer of high rank), and also an original 
drawing by Major And/e of the dress for that fete. He 
sketched it to give the ladies an idea of the garb they should 
assume. In reality it was this : for the Blended Rose, a white 
silk, called a polonaise, forming a flowing robe, and open in 
front on the waist ; the pink sash six inches wide, and filled 
with spangles ; the shoes and stockings also spangled ; the 
head-dress more towering than the drawing, and filled with a 
profusion of pearls and jewels. The veil was spangled, and 
edged with silver lace. She says the whole scene was like 
enchantment to her young mind. 

The ladies of the Black Knights wore white sashes edged 
with black, and black trimmings to white silk polonaise gowns. 
The ticket is surmounted with Sir William Howe's crest ; 
and the shield represents the sea, which Sir Wilham is about 
to cross : hence "F/t/^ Vale^ The setting glory of the sun, 
and the Latin scroll, seem to indicate, that, although their 
luminary is thus receding from them, it shall rise again {j-esur^ 
gam) in another hemisphere. 



PR IV A TIONS. 265 

Privations. 

I have often heard it stated by persons who went through 
the trials of that period, that we their descendants have no 
just conceptions of their state of suffering and deprivations. 
Their clothing was of the coarsest form, — of home-made, — 
made by the women's spinning done in the house : they also 
made all the shirting and sheeting, &c. Where so much was 
to be done, it was necessary that all should help : to this cause, 
I know that two lads, both afterwards commodores in the 
United States navy, were both taught to be good spinners 
on the little wheel. Tea, coffee, chocolate, sugar, and all 
kinds of spices, were wholly gone in almost all country- 
places. Sage- tea and teaberry were used as substitutes. 
Salt was greatly needed, and could not be procured. When 
sometimes smuggled into the country, it was done in women's 
pockets. Salt-pans were settled all along the seacoast to 
make salt at expensive rates. In many places where the 
armies passed, flour was not to be had for bread. People in 
Virginia and elsewhere were obliged to live on pounded corn. 
The mills were equally dismantled by both of the warring 
parties. I have known persons in very respectable and 
decent families, that found very great difficulties to keep 
themselves even passably clothed. Women indulged in no 
fineries or changes then : all pretence to fashion was wholly 
out of the question. Wherever the armies were to pass and 
forage, &c., as through New Jersey and Virginia, and the 
Carohnas, the farmers lost nearly all they had that was eatable 
or movable. Their horses were pressed, and their cows and 
swine taken : they had no spirit to sow seed, or to till their 
grounds. There was no regular business in any thing : even 
apprentices were not safe ; for they had to serve their turns in 
the several requisitions. There was, indeed, a mighty spirit 
of resistance raised and maintained by the men of that day; 
but the women felt the war extremely ; and both men and 
women were most heardly glad when they at last saw that 
their struggles were to have end. It was an occasion of 



266 FENNS YL VA NIA . 

extravagant and universal joy. It could never have been 
borne so long as it was, but that the practice of war then 
gave long seasons of respite during the several winters, allow- 
ing time to the worn-down to recruit their strength and spirits, 
and giving time to resort to new enterprises, and to new 
means of recruiting their forces, &c. Besides all this, it was 
almost a universal expectation that every next campaign would 
surely end the contest. None foresaw or feared a term of 
seven years. 

In our present repose, and consciousness of strength and 
security, we can hardly conceive the state of excitement and 
concern daily felt in the Revolutionary period. A friend of 
mine, who was an observant and intelligent boy, dwelling on 
a farm near the Yellow Springs, in Chester County, has re- 
lated to me some of the incidents of that time. Their ordi- 
nary religious sabbath worship was irregular, and broken up : 
their male neighbors, every here and there, were absent on 
militia service. The talk and greeting of the neighbors were 
generally about the absentees. News was very uncertain, and 
yet anxiously inquired after. News " by flood and field " 
occasionally came, which stirred and disturbed the whole com- 
munity : sometimes it came saddening, of some one or other 
mishap befallen, to some one of their famihes. When the 
news of the landing of the British at the head of Elk, and of 
their advance upon the Brandywine, occurred, every family 
was put upon the tiptoe of expectation and alarm : besides 
which, new calls were made upon the people to go to head- 
quarters as soldiers, guides, or wagoners. In the absence 
of the males of the families, women and children were full of 
apprehension. Floors were taken up, and out-houses made 
into concealed places for their most valuable articles of por- 
table character. They had all undefined apprehensions of 
being plundered and abused. At and after the time of the 
battle of Brandywine, the country could be seen all in motion, 
in the rapid coming and going of men on horseback. In 
time, could be seen numerous bands and parties of wearied 
and discomfited soldiers, none of them aiming at order, and 



PRIVA TIONS. 267 

some few of them without officers or arms. Some were going 
to an assigned point on the Schuylkill ; but several were 
resolved to make their escape to their homes. Many of them 
were beggars for some refreshments ; and all was cheerfully 
given to them which they could spare. For many nights, the 
family sat up all night, from wakeful apprehension. The 
father of the family I describe had been a Quaker, so strictly 
trained, that his sister, who was a preacher, would not wear 
her caps of any other than brown linen, — white being a con- 
demned refinement, — for dress sake. Such a man, although 
averse to war, had by this time become so far warlike, that he 
had gone for the country, and was actually from home, in the 
ranks, where he took a severe cold from sleeping on the 
ground, and died. 

On one of the nights of apprehension, there came to the 
house a small company of cavalry Their presence was 
disquieting anyhow ; but when they took off their military 
cloaks, and displayed the red coats of British officers, the 
dread they caused was irrepressible. "What shall we do? 
and to what is this visit of the enemy to tend ?" They saw 
the dismay, and soon quieted them by saying they were 
American officers in disguise, out upon a tour of recognizance 
near to the enemy. Every now and then, after the winter 
campaign was deemed closed, and the British were gayly rev- 
elling in Philadelphia, the dread of British foraging-parties 
was felt. Any thing of military aspect, and approaching them 
on horseback, was quickly interpreted as British assailants, 
and set the whole family in commotion. Sometimes they 
were parties of Americans, half as clamorous for needed suc- 
cors as the British themselves would probably have been. 
Men acting as farmers felt as if they had no security for 
reaping what they might plant. The heart was heavy, and 
reluctant at its wonted toil. Mothers, acting in the absence 
of their husbands, looked upon their children, and wondered 
if their fathers should ever return to foster and rear them. 
Sad forebodings were but too often true. Such facts, thus 
faintly expressed, have been but too true a picture all over our 



268 PEJVNS YL VA NIA. 

extended country of united colonies, wherever the approach 
of the hostile bands could be apprehended, or were realized. 
Those who lived upon the frontiers were kept in Indian 
alarms ; and those along the Atlantic dreaded British invasion 
and ravages. Their march was always a cause of desolation 
and anxiety, even where their discipline was intended to check 
any individual and family aggressions. 

Valley Forge. 

P. S. Duponceau, Esq., who was one of the young officers 
of the army at Valley Forge (aide to Steuben), relates some 
facts of stirring interest. They bore, said he, their condition 
of half-naked and half-famished men, with fortitude, resigna- 
tion, and patience. Sometimes you might see soldiers pop 
their heads out of their huts, and call out in an undertone, 
" No bread, no soldier ! " But a single word from their officer 
would still their complaint. He has spoken of the Washing- 
ton family in such picturesque terms as makes us see the life. 
The general, partaking of the hardships of his brave men, was 
accustomed to sit down with his invited officers, &c., to a scanty 
piece of meat, with some hard-bread and a few potatoes. At 
his house, called " Moore Hall," they drank the health and 
prosperity of the nation in humble toddy ; and the luxurious 
dessert consisted of a plate of hickory-nuts. There his forti- 
tude, and dignity of demeanor, always gave new spirits to his 
officers. Even in those scenes, Mrs. Washington, as was her 
practice in the winter campaigns, had joined her husband, and 
possessing always, at the head of his table, her mild, dignified 
countenance. Grave yet cheerful, her countenance and her 
manner reflected the feelings of the hero whose name she 
bore. Her presence inspired fortitude ; and those who came 
to her with almost desponding hearts retired full of hope and 
confidence. 

A gentleman (C. M.), who was an officer at the camp, has 
told me of some of their hardships there. Fresh beef they 
could scarcely get : of vegetables they had none, save some- 
times some potatoes. Their table was loose planks, rough, as 



OLD DOCTORS. 269 

split from the tree. One dish, of wood or of pewter, sufficed 
for a mess. A horn spoon, and tumbler of horn, was lent 
round. Their knife was carried in the pocket. Much of their 
diet was salted herrings, in such an injured state, that they 
would not hold together to be drawn out of the cask singly, but 
had to be shovelled up en masse. Sugar, coffee, tea, &c., were 
luxuries not seen. They had only Continental money ; and it 
was so depreciated, it would not allure farmers to sell to 
them. Yet, cheerless as was such a state, when they drew 
three months' pay, a number of subaltern officers sallied out 
to seek mirth and jolhty, and spent a month's pay in one 
night of merry revelry. Sometimes, for pleasantry, you might 
see a squad of men and officers affecting to have received a 
supply of whiskey (of which they were often without), and 
passing round the stone jug, as if filled, when, lo ! the eager 
expectant found it was only water. The fun was, that the 
deceived still kept the secret, in hopes to pass it to another 
and another unwary wight. On one occasion of alarm, the 
men being marched out, in several instances were so shoeless 
as to mark the frozen ground with blood, when Gen. Conway, 
who saw it, exclaimed, " My dear fellows, my heart bleeds 
with you ! " 

Old Doctors. 

[A friend of Mr. Watson's, writing under the nom de plutne 
of Lang Syne, published the following reminiscences, which 
Mr. Watson copied.] 

One of the earhest and one of the most vivid recollections 
in this city, by the reminiscent, is of the person of old Dr. 
Chovet, living at the time directly opposite the (now) "White 
Swan," in Race, above Third Street.^ He it was who, by his 
genius, professional skill, and perseverance, finally perfected 
those wonderful (at the time) anatomical preparations in wax, 



^ It might Justly surprise the present generation to know, that, in 1778, this Dr. 
Chovet advertised his anatomical lectures to take place at his amphitheatre at his 
dwelling-house in Water Street, near the old ferr)', to continue during the winter; 
his cliarge three guineas. Observe, that Water Street then was the chief place of 
residence for the best families of the business class. — J. F. Watson. 



2/0 PENNS YL VANIA. 

which, since his death, have been in possession of the Penn- 
sylvania Hospital. These anatomical preparations, the very 
sight of which is calculated to fill the mind with solemn awe, 
while beholding not only the streets, but the lanes, alleys, and 
inner chambers, of the microcosm, or little world of man, were 
beheld by the writer only some few years since, forcing back 
upon the memory the once aged appearance of the doctor, 
contrasted with the exertions made by him, and apparent to 
every one who beheld him, to appear active and sprightly in 
business, cleaving, as it were, to his " last sand." This aged 
gentleman and physician was almost daily to be seen pushing 
his way, in spite of his feebleness, in a kind of hasty walk, or, 
rather, shuffle ; his aged head, and straight white hair, bowed, 
and hanging forward beyond the cape of his black old-fash- 
ioned coat, mounted by a small cocked hat, closely turned 
upon the crown upwards behind, but projectingly, and out of 
all proportion, cocked before, and seemingly the impelling 
cause of his anxious forward movements. His aged lips, 
closely compressed (sans teeth) together, were in continual 
motion, as though he were munching somewhat all the while ; 
his golden-headed Indian cane not used for his support, but 
dangling by a knotted black silken string from his wrist. 
The ferrule of his cane, and the heels of his capacious shoes 
(well lined in winter-time with thick woollen cloth), might be 
heard jingling, and scraping the pavement, at every step. He 
seemed on the street always as one hastening, as fast as his 
aged limbs would permit him, to some patient dangerously ill, 
without looking at any one passing him to the right or left. 
He was always spoken of as possessing much sarcastic wit, 
and also for using expletives in his common conversation, in 
the opinion of those who spoke on the subject, to be neither 
useful nor ornamental. 

An anecdote strikingly illustrative of the latter might here 
be given of the doctor, and a member of the Society of 
Friends, who had lent him his great-coat to shelter him, on his 
way home, from the then falling rain. The coat was loaned 
by the Friend to the doctor, with a moral condition annexed, 



OLD DOCTORS. 2J\ 

which, upon the return of the coat, he declared he had reli- 
giously performed, adding, in facetious vein, a supplemental 
remark to the Friend, descriptive of an unusual propensity he 
found himself to be laboring under during the whole time he 
had been enveloped in a plain coat. Having so said and done, 
they separated on the most friendly terms, with a hearty laugh 
on both sides. Does none remember? 

Dr. Thomas Say lived in Moravian (now Bread) Street, on 
the west side, near Arch Street, Having to pass that way 
frequently to school, his person became very familiar. In fair 
weather, he was to be seen almost daily, standing, dressed in 
a light drab suit, with his arms gently folded, and leaning with 
one shoulder against the cheek of the door, for the support, 
evidently, of his rather tall and slender frame, now weakened 
by age. He was the same Dr. Thomas Say, who, many years 
before, had been in a trance of three days' continuance ; dur- 
ing which time (whether in the body or out of the body, he 
could not tell), he beheld many wonderful matters, as is fully 
detailed in " The Life of Thomas Say," now extant, and writ- 
ten by his son Benjamin, deceased. He was of fair complex- 
ion ; and his thinly spread hair, of the silvery white, curled 
slightly over and behind the ears, — in appearance very 
venerable, in his speech and manner mild and amiable, — as 
is well remembered concerning him, while he stood one day 
affectionately admonishing some boys, who had gazed perhaps 
too rudely at the aged man, of whom they had heard, probably, 
that he had seen a vision. He mildly advised them to pass 
on their way, pressing at the same time, and with lasting 
effect, upon the mind of one of them, never to stare (said he) 
at strangers and aged men. 

The next aged physician of the Old School was Dr. Red- 
man, who lived next door to Dr. Ustick's Baptist meeting- 
house, in Second, near Arch Street. The doctor had retired 
from practice altogether, and was known to the public eye as 
an antiquated-looking old gentleman, usually habited in a 
broad-skirted dark coat, with long pocket-flaps, buttoned across 
his under-dress ; wearing, in strict conformity with the cut of 



2/2 PENNS YL VANIA. 

the coat, a pair of Baron Steuben's military-shaped boots, 
coming above the knees, for riding ; his hat flapped before, and 
cocked up smartly behind, covering a full-bottomed powdered 
wig — in the front of which might be seen an eagle-pointed 
nose, separating a pair of piercing black eyes, — his lips exhib- 
iting (but only now and then) a quick motion, as though at the 
moment he was endeavoring to extract the essence of a small 
quid. As thus described in habit and in person, he was to 
be seen almost daily, in fair weather, mounted on a short, fat, 
black, switch-tailed horse, and riding, for his amusement and 
exercise, in a brisk, racking canter, about the streets and 
suburbs of the city. 

He was so well known, that, in his rambles about the town 
on foot, he would step in, without ceremony, at the first public 
office which presented itself to his view, and, upon his seeing 
any vacant desk or writing-table, set himself down^ with a 
pleasant nod to some one present, and begin writing his letter 
or memorandum. One day, while thus occupied in his writ- 
ing, he was suddenly addressed by a very forward, presuming 
person, who wanted of him some medical advice gratis. Find- 
ing himself thus interrupted, he lifted the corner of his wig, 
as usual, and desired the person to repeat his question, which 
he did loudly, as follows : " Doctor, what would you advise 
as the best thing for a pain in the breast ? " The wig having 
dropped to its proper place, the doctor, after a seemingly pro- 
found study for a moment on the subject, replied, " Oh, ay! 
I will tell you, my good friend : the very best thing I could 
advise you to do for a pain in the breast is to — consult your 
physician." 

These three veterans of the city in the science and practice 
of medicine in the time of the colonies — like three remaining 
apples, separate and lonely upon the uppermost bough of a 
leafless tree — were finally shaken to the ground by the un- 
relenting wind of death, and gathered to the " narrow house," 
as very readily surmised by the reader, no doubt. 

My friend Mr. P., another Philadelphian, long residing in 
New York, has also communicated his reminiscences of some 



OLD DOCTORS. 2/3 

of the Philadelphia faculty as they stood impressed upon his 
boyish judgment and feelings, which I shall add, to wit : — 

" I wish to mention the names of a few physicians in my 
day. Dr. William Shippen, sen., resided, when he left off 
practice, in Germantown. At the age of ninety, he would ride 
in and out of the city on horseback, full gallop, without an 
overcoat, in the coldest weather. Dr. Thomas Bond died in 
1784; always rode in a small phaeton; resided in Second 
Street, near Norris's Alley. Dr. Redman resided near the 
Baptist Meeting, in Second Street. A small black filly had 
the honor to carry the doctor on his visits, and would await 
his return at the door of the patient. The doctor would some- 
times kindly lend his creature ; but she was sure to throw the 
rider. Dr. Chovet, a most eccentric man, full of anecdote, 
and noted for his propensity for what is now termed quizzing, 
resided in Race, above Third Street. The doctor was what 
was termed a Tory ; was licensed to say and do what he 
pleased, at which no one took umbrage. He one day entered 
the old coffee-house, corner of Market and Front Streets, with 
an open letter in his hand : it was twelve o'clock, change hour, 
the merchants all assembled. On seeing the doctor, they sur- 
rounded him, inquiring what news he had in that letter, which 
he stated he had just received by a king's ship arrived at New 
York. In reply to the inquiry, he said that the letter con- 
tained information of the death of an old cobbler in London, 
who had his stall in one of the by-streets, and asked the gen- 
tlemen what they supposed the cobbler had died worth. One 
said five thousand pounds, another ten thousand pounds, and 
another twenty thousand pounds sterling. ' No, gentlemen, 
no ! You are all mistaken. Not one farthing, gentlemen,' run- 
ning out, laughing at the joke at the expense of the collected 
mercantile wisdom of the city. Another time, having been 
sent for by the Spanish minister, Don Juan (I forget his 
name), who resided in old Mr. Chew's house in Third, between 
Walnut and Spruce Streets, the weather being rather un- 
pleasant, the ambassador ordered his carriage to the door to 
convey the doctor home. The doctor, full of fun and joke, 



2 74 PENNS YL VA NT A. 

directed the coachman to drive by the coffee-house, which, as 
he approached, was perceived by the merchants, who imme- 
diately drew up in order, hats off, to pay their respects to the 
Don, as minister from a friendly power. The doctor kept 
himself close back in the carriage until directly opposite the 
coffee-house, the gentlemen all bowing and scraping ; when 
he pops out his head, ' Good-morning, gentlemen, good-morn- 
ing. I hope you are all well. Thank you, in the name of 
his Majesty King George,' and drove off, laughing heartily at 
having again joked with the Philadelphia Whigs." 

The few physicians mentioned in the preceding notices as 
having their pacing-nags, or a little wheeled vehicle, are in- 
tended as rarities among the profession. It was only an in- 
dulgence awarded to the aged and infirm to submit to motive 
assistance. Any young man resorting to it would have en- 
dangered his reputation and practice. Dr. Rush has told his 
friends how often he visited Kensington on foot to serve poor 
sick persons, from whom he expected nothing directly, but by 
the fame of which, in his successful practice in their behalf, 
he indirectly was rewarded with his future choice of practice 
there. It was not only to walk far, for smaller reward, but 
the time was before the fashion of umbrellas and boots, that 
they had to wade through unpaved lanes and alleys without 
defence against storms of rain, hail, or snow. As if it were 
inferred that men who professed to heal all maladies should 
themselves be invulnerable to the assaults of disease. 

Lydia Darrah. 

[Major Garden, whose anecdotes and reminiscences are 
mainly of the Southern campaign, gives, also, certain incidents 
relating to the movements of the army in the neighborhood of 
Philadelphia, and, amongst others the story often told, in one 
form or another, of Lydia Darrah.] 

The superior officers of the British army were accustomed 
to hold their consultations, on all subjects of importance, at 
the house of William and Lydia Darrah, members of the 
Society of Friends, immediately opposite to the quarters of 



LYDIA DARRAH. 2/5 

the commander-in-chief, in Second Street. It was in Decem- 
ber, in the year that they occupied the city, that the adjutant- 
general of the army desired Lydia to have an apartment 
prepared for the reception of himself and friends, and to order 
her family early to bed, adding, when ready to depart, " Notice 
shall be given to you to let us out, and to extinguish the fire 
and candles." The manner of delivering this order, especially 
that part of it which commanded the early retirement of her 
family, strongly excited Lydia's curiosity, and determined 
her, if possible, to discover the mystery of their meeting. 
Approaching without shoes the room in which the conference 
was held, and placing her ear to the keyhole, she heard the 
order read for the troops to quit the city on the night of the 
4th, to attack the American army encamped at White Marsh. 
Returning immediately to her room, she laid herself down; 
but, in a little while, a loud knocking at the door, which for 
some time she pretended not to hear, proclaimed the intention 
of the party to retire. Having let them out, she again sought 
her bed, but not to sleep : the agitation of her mind precluded 
the possibihty of enjoying it. She thought only of the 
dangers that threatened the lives of thousands of her country- 
men ; and, believing it to be in her power to avert the evil, 
determined, at all hazards, to apprise Gen. Washington of 
his danger. Telling her husband, at early dawn, that flour 
was wanting for domestic purposes, and that she should go 
to Frankfort to obtain it, she repaired to headquarters, got 
access to Gen. Howe, and obtained permission to pass the 
British lines. Leaving her bag at the mill, Lydia now pressed 
forward towards the American army, and, meeting Capt. 
Allen M'Lean (an officer, from his superior intelligence and 
activity, selected by Gen. Washington to gain intelligence, 
discovered to him the important secret, obtaining his promise 
not to jeopardize her safety by telling from whom he had 
obtained it. Capt. M'Lean with all speed informed the com- 
mander-in-chief of his danger, who, of course, took every 
necessary step to baffle the contemplated enterprise, and to 
show the enemy that he was prepared to receive them. Lydia 



2 'J 6 PENNS YL VA NIA. 

returned home with her flour, secretly watched the movements 
of the British army, and saw them depart. Her anxiety during 
their absence was excessive ; nor was it lessened, when, on 
their return, the adjutant-general, summoning her to his 
apartment, and locking the door with an air of mystery, 
demanded whether any of the family were up on the night 
that he had received company at her house. She told him, 
that, without an exception, they had all retired at eight 
o'clock. " You, I know, Lydia, were asleep ; for I knocked 
at your door three times before you heard me. Yet, although 
I am at a loss to conceive who gave the information of the 
intended attack to Gen. Washington, it is certain that we were 
betrayed ; for, on arriving near his encampment, we found 
his cannon mounted, his troops under arms, and at every 
point so perfectly prepared to receive us, that we were com- 
pelled, like fools, to make a retrograde movement, without 
inflicting on our enemy any manner of injury whatsoever." 

Anecdotes of Robert Morris. 

[From Garden's Anecdotes again we take several incidents in 
the career of Robert Morris, related mainly by Judge Peters.] 

Mr. Robert Morris, to whom the United States is more in- 
debted for their prosperity and happiness than to any other 
individual, with the exception of Gen. Washington, overcome 
by his feelings, quitted the hall [of Congress, after the receipt 
of alarming news from the army] with a mind completely de- 
pressed, without a present hope, or cheering expectation of 
future prosperity. On entering his counting-house, he received 
the welcome intelligence, that a ship which he had despaired 
of had at that moment arrived at the wharf with a full cargo 
of all the munitions of war, and of soldiers' clothing. He re- 
turned to Congress almost breathless with joy, and announced 
the exhilarating good news. Nor did propitious fortune end 
here. Accidentally meeting with a worthy Quaker who had 
wealth at command, and a hearty well-wisher to the American 
cause, although, from his religious principles, averse to war and 
fighting, he thought it no departure from the strict line of pro- 



ANECDOTES OF ROBERT MORRIS. 2// 

priety to endeavor, by every exertion, to awaken his sympathy, 
and obtain his assistance. Assuming, therefore, an expression 
of countenance indicative of the most poignant anguish and 
deep despair, he was passing him in silence, when the benevo- 
lent Quaker, who had critically observed him, and marked the 
agitation of his mind, feelingly said, " Robert, I fear there is 
bad news." The reply was, " Yes, very bad : I am under the 
most helpless embarrassment for the want of somxe hard 
money." — " How much would relieve thy difficulties, Robert .'' " 
The sum was mentioned. *' But I could only give my private 
engagement in a note, which I would sacredly pledge my 
honor to repay," rejoined Mr. Morris. " Cease thy sorrows 
then, Robert : thou shalt have the money in confidence of thy 
silence on the subject as it regards me." The specie was pro- 
cured, immediately remitted to Gen. Washington, and saved 
the army. 

In 1779 or 17S0, two of the most distressing years of the 
war. Gen, Washington wrote to me a most alarming account 
of the prostrate condition of the mihtary stores, and enjoining 
my immediate exertions to supply deficiencies. There were 
no musket-cartridges but those in the men's boxes ; and they 
were wet. Of course, if attacked, a retreat or a rout was in- 
evitable. We (the Board of War) had exhausted all the lead 
accessible to us, having caused even the spouts of houses to 
be melted, and had offered abortively the equivalent, in paper, 
of two shillings specie per pound for lead. I went, in the even- 
ing of the day in which I received this letter, to a splendid 
entertainment given by Don Mirailles, the Spanish minister. 
My heart was sad ; but I had the faculty of brightening my 
countenance even under gloomy disasters, yet it seems then 
not sufficiently adroitly. Mr. Morris, who was one of the 
guests, and knew me well, discovered some casual traits of 
depression. He accosted me in his usual blunt and disengaged 
manner : " I see some clouds passing across the sunny coun- 
tenance you assume. What is the matter .''" After some hesi- 
tation, I showed him the general's letter, which I had brought 
from the office with the intention of placing it at home in a 



2/8 PEN'NS YL VAA^IA. 

private cabinet. He played with my anxiety, which he did not 
relieve, for some time. At length, however, with great and 
sincere delight, he called me aside, and told me that the 
" Holker," privateer, had just arrived at his wharf Avith ninety 
tons of lead, which she had brought as ballast. It had been 
landed at Martinique, and stone ballast had supplied its place ; 
but this had been put on shore, and the lead again taken in. 
" You shall have my half of this fortunate supply. There are 
the owners of the other half," indicating gentlemen in the apart- 
ment. " Yes ; but I am already under heavy personal engage- 
ments, as guaranty for the Department, to those and other 
gentlemen." — "Well, rejoined Mr. Morris, "they will take 
your assumption with my guaranty." I instantly, on these 
terms, secured the lead, left the entertainment, sent for the 
proper officers, and set more than one hundred people to work 
through the night. Before morning, a supply of cartridges was 
ready, and sent off to the army. 

It may not be generally known; but it is an incontroverti- 
ble fact, that the plan of the campaign for the year 1781, as 
agreed upon by Gen. Washington and Admiral De Grasse, 
was to aim at the reduction of New York, and that the South- 
ern enterprise was never contemplated, until unexpectedly, 
and to his extreme surprise. Gen. Washington (by the French 
admiral's breaking his engagements to come into New York 
Bay, and announcing his intention, through the admiral com- 
manding the squadron at Rhode Island, to enter and remain 
for a few weeks in the Chesapeake) was obliged to change 
the whole plan of operations, which, from the powerful re- 
sources of his mind, he planned and performed in a sudden 
and masterly manner. An account had been published, by 
which it appears that the Count Rochambeau claimed the 
credit of planning the enterprise a year before it was put in 
execution. A military character who had rendered such im- 
portant services to our country as were, by universal consent, 
attributed to him, needed no borrowed plume. He avows his 
having advised Count de Grasse not to venture into New 
York Bay. He should (had he acted consistently with his 



ANECDOTES OF ROBERT MORRIS. 2/9 

duty), with candor, and in due season, have made this com- 
munication to Gen. Washington : whereas, the first intimation 
of a change of tlie original plan was the French admiral's 
letter from Rhode Island, which the general put into my 
hands a few hours after he had received it, with strong ex- 
pressions of surprise and resentment. Assuredly, at this 
period, the expedition to the southward had never been 
thought of; but, as Count Rochambeau's countervailing ad- 
vice had been attended with successful consequences, he 
adroitly takes advantage of this good-fortune, and turns an 
otherwise unjustifiable interference into personal merit. I 
was sent by Congress, under the belief that New York was 
the object, to consult with Gen. Washington on the supplies 
necessary for the attack ; but the apprehension expressed 
by Count De Grasse, of danger to his heavy ships, should 
they enter the bay, and the avowal of his intention to sail for 
the Chesapeake, put at once an end to deliberation on the 
subject. A new object was now to be sought for, on which 
the co-operation of the allies might be employed with effect. 
I was present when the Southern enterprise was resolved on 
(claiming no merit or agency in the military part of it), and 
superintended the provision of every thing required by the 
general for the operation. From seventy to eighty pieces of 
battering-cannon, and one hundred of field-artillery, were 
completely fitted and furnished with attirail and ammunition ; 
although, when I returned from camp to Philadelphia, there 
was not a field-carriage put together, and but a small quantity 
of fixed ammunition in our magazines. The train was pro- 
gressively sent on in three or four weeks, to the great honor 
of the officers and the men employed in this meritorious ser- 
vice. All this, together with the expense of provision for 
and pay of the troops, was accomplished on the personal 
credit of Mr. Robert Morris, who issued his notes to the 
amount of one ntillion, four hundred thousand dollars, which 
were finally all paid. Assistance was furnished by Virginia 
and other States, from the merit whereof I mean not to de- 
tract ; but as there was no money in the chest of the War 



280 PENNSYLVANIA. 

Office, and the treasury of the United States empty, the ex- 
pedition never could have been operative, and brought to a 
successful issue, had not, most fortunately, Mr. Morris's 
credit, superior exertions, and management, supplied the indis- 
pensable si7te qua it07t, — the funds necessary to give effect 
to exertion. 

Literary Cartridges. 

To the instances given by Judge Peters of the happy 
arrival of supplies for the army at the moment that they were 
most needed, I would add another occurrence derived from 
the same authority. On our entering Philadelphia, in June, 
1778, after the evacuation by the British troops, we were hard 
pressed for ammunition. We caused the whole city to be 
ransacked in search of cartridge-paper. At length I thought 
of the garrets, &c., of old printing-offices. In that once 
occupied as a lumber-room by Dr. Franklin when a printer, a 
vast collection was discovered. Among the mass was more 
than a cart-body load of Serjiions on Defensive War', preached 
by a famous Gilbert Tenant, during an old British and French 
war, to rouse the Colonists to indispensable exertion. These 
appropriate manifestoes were instantly employed as cases for 
musket-cartridges, rapidly sent to the army, came most oppor- 
tunely, and were fired away at the battle of Monmouth against 
our retiring foe. 

Baron Steuben. 

A friend, on the accuracy of whose statements I can con- 
fidently rely, told me that it could not easily be conceived to 
what severe trial the "patience of the baron was put in his first 
efforts to establish a regular system of discipline ; and that, 
on one occasion, having exhausted all his German and French 
oaths, he vociferated to his aide-de-camp, Major Walker, 
" Vieu Walker — vieu, vi07t bon ami. Curse — dainn de 
gaucherie of dese badauis, je ne puis plus. I can curse dem 
no more.^'' 

In private life, his virtues were exalted ; and it would be 
difficult to determine whether he most excites our admiration 
for zeal and activity as a patriot and soldier, or tenderness 



BARON STEUBEN. 28 1 

and humanity as a man. As I hold his character in high 
veneration, I have great delight in relating an anecdote which 
I received from Gen. Walter Stewart, the truth of which may- 
be confidently relied on. After the capture of Yorktown, the 
superior officers of the allied army vied with each other in 
acts of civility and attention to the captive Britons. Lord 
Cornwallis and his family were particularly distinguished. 
Entertainments were given in succession by all the major- 
generals, with the exception of Baron Steuben. He alone 
withheld an invitation, not from a wish to be particular, nor 
that his heart was closed to the attentions due to misfortune. 
His soul was superior to prejudice ; and as a soldier he 
tenderly sympathized in their fate, while poverty denied the 
means of displaying that liberality towards them which had 
been shown by others. Such was his situation, when, calling 
on Col. Stewart, and informing him of his intention to enter- 
tain the British commander-in-chief, he requested that he 
would advance him a sum of money as the price of his 
favorite charger. "'Tis a good beast," said the baron, "and 
has proved a faithful servant through all the dangers of the 
war; but, though painful to my heart, we must part." Col. 
Stewart, to prevent a step that he knew must be attended 
with great loss and still greater inconvenience, immediately 
tendered his purse, recommending, should the sum it con- 
tained prove insufficient, the sale or pledge of his watch. 
" My dear friend," said the baron, " 'tis already sold. Poor 
N was sick, and wanted necessaries. He is a brave fel- 
low, and possesses the best of hearts. The trifle it brought 
is set apart for his use. My horse must go : so no more, I 
beseech you, to turn me from my purpose. I am a major- 
general in the service of the United States ; and my private 
convenience must not be put in the scale wdth the duty which 
my rank calls upon me imperiously to perform." 

The liberal disposition cf Baron Steuben afforded to his 
aide-de-camp, Major North, an opportunity of making a pecu- 
liarly happy repartee. On the summit of a hill, on the fann 
occupied by the baron, a monument was erected to the mem- 



282 PENNS YL VA NIA . 

ory of a certain Mr. Provost, who, on account of his constant 
command of cash, had been styled, when living, Ready-Money 
Provost. A gentleman observing, that, in the event of death, 
the baron would be at no loss for a snug place of interment, 
Major North replied, " Then, sir, his disposition must alter 
with his state ; for in life he will never tolerate the idea of 
laying by ready money." 

Though jDOor himself, the baron had a number of pension- 
ers. Of one of these I must relate an interesting anecdote. 
When Arnold apostatized, and attached himself to the British 
standard, Baron Steuben, at that period inspector-general of 
the army, to show his perfect abhorrence of the traitor, com- 
manded that every soldier who bore the name should change 
it, or be immediately dismissed the service. Some days after, 
finding a soldier of Connecticut who had paid no attention to 
the mandate, he insisted that he should instantaneously be ex- 
pelled from the ranks. " I am no traitor, my worthy general," 
said the soldier, "and will wilHngly renounce a name that the 
perfidy of a scoundrel has forever tarnished, if allowed to 
assume one which is dear to every American soldier. Let 
me be Steuben, and be assured that I will never disgrace 
you." — "Willingly, my worthy fellow," replied the baron. 
" Be henceforth Steuben, and add to the glory of a name that 
has already acquired lustre by the partial adoption of a brave 
man." The soldier, at the conclusion of the war, kept a 
tavern in New England, exhibiting a representation of his 
patron as a sign, and, as long as the baron lived, received a 
pension from him as a reward for his partial attachment. 

The hospitality of Baron Steuben was unbounded. Intro- 
duced at his \nlla by a friend, to whose exertions in Congress 
he considered himself peculiarly indebted for a pension settled 
on him for life, he treated me with marked attention, and, at 
the moment of my departure, said with great politeness (Sun- 
day being the day on which he kept open table for his friends), 
^^ Soiivenez-vous, mon jeufie a?ni^ penda/it voire sejoiir a A^eiv 
York, que le dimanche est cofisaere a Dieii et a Steuben ? " 

Dining with him shortly after the resignation of Mr. 



BARON STEUBEN; 283 

Robert Morris as financier of the United States, the cause 
of which appeared inexplicable to the company present, " To 
me," said Baron Steuben, " there appears no mystery. I will 
illustrate my sentiments by a simple narrative. When I was 
about to quit Paris, to embark for the United States, the 
better to insure comfort when in camp, I judged it of impor- 
tance to engage in my service a cook of celebrity. The 
American army was posted at Valley Forge when I joined it. 
Arrived at my quarters, a wagoner presented himself, saying 
that he was directed to attach himself to my train, and obey 
my orders. Commissaries arriving furnished a supply of 
beef and bread, and retired. My cook looked around him for 
utensils indispensable, in his opinion, for preparing a meal, 
and, finding none, in an agony of despair applied to the wag- 
oner for advice. ' We cook our meat,' replied he, ' by hang- 
ing it up by a string, and turning it before a good fire until 
sufficiently roasted.' The next day, and still another, passed 
without material change. The commissary made his deposit. 
My cook showed the strongest indications of uneasiness by 
shrugs and heavy sighing, but, with the exception of a few 
oaths, spoke not a word of complaint. His patience, how- 
ever, was completely exhausted. He requested an audience, 
and demanded his dismission. ' Under happier circum- 
stances, 771071 gaieral,'' said he, 'it would be my ambition to 
serve you ; but here I have no chance of showing my talents ; 
and I think myself obliged, in honor, to save you expense, 
since your wagoner is just as able to turn the string as I am.' 
Believe me, gentlemen," continued the baron, " the treasury 
of America is at present just as empty as my kitchen was at 
Valley Forge ; and Mr. Morris wisely retires, thinking it of 
very little consequence who tur7is the stri7ig.^'' 




THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 




Bought for a Song. 

ADAME RIEDESEL, in her Journal, recounts some 
of her experiences in Virginia, where, with her 
husband, she remained a few weeks before their 
final departure for Canada. Her husband had be- 
come prostrated, partly by physical debility, partly by mental 
depression.] 

The use of a certain bath in Virginia, which is called Frede- 
rick Spring, was prescribed for him ; and we accordingly 
journeyed thither. I believe that he increased his disorder 
by always wetting his head before bathing ; and what was still 
worse was, that, in spite of all we could do, his hair would 
remain damp. His fretfulness continued; and the thought of 
his imprisonment worried him more than ever. At night he 
could not sleep. I therefore hit upon the expedient of read- 
ing to him in a particularly drowsy tone. This was success- 
ful ; for he always went to sleep. His hands and feet were 
constantly blue, and cold as ice. Whenever I thought that I 
might safely venture to lie down, his anguish would invariably 
wake him up. Every thing irritated him. One day a Vir- 
ginian came into my room, and said that he was curious to 
see a German woman, eying me, at the same time, from head 
to foot. I was delighted at the idea of enjoying myself over 
something. But when, at his request, I brought him to my 
husband, the latter was so moved at the idea of his situation 
284 



A MARYLAND COUNTRY-SEAT. 285 

compelling him to be gazed upon at the whim of this or that 
man, that the tears came into his eyes, and I sincerely re- 
pented of having been so inconsiderate. 

We made at Frederick Spring the acquaintance of Gen. 
Washington's family, and also of Madame Garel (a very lova- 
ble woman) and her husband. She was an ardent Ameri- 
can patriot, but reasonable ; and we became great friends. 
She spent most of the forenoons with us. At such times 
Capt. Geismar played the violin, and I sang Italian airs, 
which gave her the greatest delight. One day, while thus 
engaged, a countryman, from whom we had endeavored by 
many kind words to obtain fresh butter, came in upon us. 
As the Americans generally are fond of music, he listened 
attentively, and, when I had finished, asked me to sing it once 
more. I asked him sportively what he would give me for it, 
as I did nothing gratis. " Two pounds of butter," he at 
once answered. The idea pleased me, and I began to sing. 
" Play another one," said he as soon as I had finished, " but 
something lively." At length I sang so much, that, the next 
morning, he brought me four or five pounds of fresh butter. 
He also had his wife with him, and entreated me to sing once 
more. I thus succeeded in winning their affection ; and after- 
wards I lacked for nothing. The best of the joke was, that 
he actually believed I wished to be paid for my singing, and 
wondered much when I paid him for the butter, which he 
supposed they had already sold. 

The Virginians are generally inert, a fate which they attri- 
bute to their hot climate ; but on the slightest inducement, in 
a twinkling, they leap up, and dance about ; and if a reel — 
an English or a Scotch national dance — is played for them, 
immediately the men catch hold of the women, who then jump 
up as if they were possessed ; but, as soon as they are led 
back to their chairs, they sit on them like blocks of wood. 

A Maryland Country-Seat. 

During our sojourn at this bath, my husband received news 
which gave us all much pleasure ; namely, that he and Gen. 



286 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

Phillips, with their adjutants, had permission to go to New 
York in order to be exchanged. My husband, upon this, 
went back to Colle to make arrangements for the maintenance, 
in his absence, of the troops (the command of which he 
handed over to Col. Specht), and to take measures for the sale 
of our superfluous things, and especially our new house, 
which we had as yet not lived in ; in which situation, indeed, 
we at various times afterwards found ourselves. We were 
often troubled in this way ; for we would come to a place, 
expecting to remain for some time, but we would scarely get 
our things to rights, at infinite pains, when we would receive 
an order bidding us instantly to depart. This time, however, 
every one was rejoiced. I set out from this bath in the 
month of August, 1777, to join my husband in Yorktown, 
Penn. Madame Garel, the clever woman whom I have 
already mentioned, had begged me to visit them at their 
country-seat in the Province of Maryland, in case we should 
be in the vicinity. I therefore determined to do it now. 
Capt. Freeman, one of my husband's English adjutants, re- 
mained with us. Capt. Edmonston had been exchanged 
through the intercession of his father. He was so devoted to 
the interests of my husband, and it gave him so much pain 
to leave him, that the latter was even obliged to persuade him 
to return to England. His departure affected us deeply, 
especially when he said, " I am certain that I shall never see 
you again." 

On our journey to the country-seat of Mrs. Garel, Capt. 
Freeman saw a black snake, — which, however, is not danger- 
ous, — licking a frog, and swallowing him down. Crying out 
sportively, " I declare myself the Knight of the Frog," he 
drew his sword, and split the snake open, when, lo ! the frog 
hopped out of its stomach, thoroughly alive ; at which we 
all were greatly amazed. Before we arrived, I was overturned 
with my wagon, but without the slightest injury. I had ad- 
vised Madame Garel of my arrival ; and she sent a man on 
horseback to meet me. After I had passed through a very 
pretty hamlet, inhabited by pure negroes, each of whom had 



A MARYLAND COUNTRY-SEAT. 28/ 

his garden, and understood some handicraft, we drove 
through a large courtyard, to a very beautiful house, where 
the whole family received us with a joyful welcome. The 
family consisted of an old father-in-law, eighty-four years of 
age, of a sprightly humor and the most extreme neatness, 
upon whose venerable countenance appeared happy content- 
ment, four perfectly lovely grandchildren, and their kind, 
beloved mother, our amiable hostess. We were served upon 
silver, and entertained, not, it is true, with much display, but 
with taste. Nothing was wanting for our comfort. She said 
to me, that, as she hoped I would remain with her a long time, 
she had received me as if I belonged to the family. 

The garden was magnificent ; and on the following day 
she drove us out to show us her vineyard, which was splendid, 
and displayed great taste, in fact exceeding my expectations. 
First we went through a great fruit-garden. Then we as- 
cended the vineyard by a winding path, which led up to the 
top of the hill. Between every vine, a poplar-rose and an 
amaranth grew. The effect of this arrangement was to give 
a magnificent appearance to every part of the vineyard, — to 
one looking down from the top, such a one, indeed, that, for 
beauty, I have not found its equal in any portion of America 
which I have seen. The husband of Madame Garel had 
travelled abroad, and had gathered these ideas of the laying- 
out of grounds in England and France. In other respects, 
he was not very lovable, but rather brusque and niggardly, 
and not at all suited to his wife, who, although she never 
showed it by outward signs, nevertheless did not appear to be 
happy. Her father-in-law she loved very much. 

Not far from this estate was a town called Baltimore, 
which they told me was very pretty, and inhabited by many 
amiable families. We received a visit from an intimate friend 
of our hostess. Both these women reminded me of Rous- 
seau's Heloise and her friend ; and the old father, of the hus- 
band of Heloise. Madame Garel was as full of tender feehng 
as she, and would, I believe, have gladly had a St. Preux for 
a husband. We arranged for her a temple adorned with 



288 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

flowers, after the design of Capt. Freeman, and dedicated it 
to Friendship and Gratitude. She wrote, me some years after- 
ward, that the family still continued to trim it with flowers. 
The lovely, agreeable Madame Garel is now dead ; and her 
family, but especially her children, have met with a great 
loss. We remained here eight or ten days ; and our parting 
was very sad. They supplied us with provisions of the best 
quality, enough to last for a long time. We, however, did not 
really need them, as the Royalists through friendly feeling, 
and the others through custom, welcomed us kindly, and fur- 
nished us with every thing needful for our sustenance. In 
this country, it would be held a crime to refuse hospitahty to 
a traveller. 

An American Cincinnatus. 

[Major Garden, from whom we have already quoted, gives 
most of his reminiscences and anecdotes of persons and events 
in the Southern States ; and it is from his ana that we give 
the following.] 

After the battle of the Cowpens, great industry was used by 
Lord Cornwallis to retake the captured prisoners. He was 
unwearied in pursuit, and, it was imagined, with considerable 
prospect of success. Under these circumstances, Gen. Greene 
directed Dr. Read to repair with all expedition to the residence 
of Gen. Lock, near Salisbury, and tell him verbally that im- 
mediate exertion was necessary, and that he must raise, by the 
next day, one thousand men, to cover the retreat of Major 
Hyrne, to whose charge the prisoners were committed. Ar- 
rived at his house. Dr. Read asked if the general was visible. 
" He is at plough in his field," was the reply. "In what di- 
rection ? " said the doctor. " This path," said a bystander, 
" will carry you to him." But a short distance was passed 
over, when Dr. Read met an old man on a sorry tacky, with a 
plough before him, to whom he said, " Tell me, friend, where 
I can find Gen. Lock." — " Come with me," was the reply, 
*' and I will carry you to him." The route was now retrograde, 
and led toward the house. When the doctor arrived there, 
beheving that he was trifled with, he said in anger, " But where 



PRIVATIONS OF OFFICERS. 289 

is the general ? " — " You shall see him immediately," was the 
answer. The old man then retired into a chamber, but returned 
instantaneously in a full suit of regimentals and a large cocked 
hat, exclaiming, " / am Gen. Lock : your business with ine^ 
friend?^'' Dr. Read immediately delivered his message ; when 
the old man replied, "It shall be done!" and immediately 
sending off his servants, with orders to his officers to summon 
their men for duty, actually joined Hyrne the next morning 
(who had five hundred men of the Seventy-first British Regi- 
ment in charge) with a corps of one thousand mounted rifle- 
men. 

Privations of Officers. 

An officer of rank belonging to our army, severely wounded 
at Gates's defeat, informed me, that, as he passed over the field 
of battle in the wagon which was to convey him to Camden, a 
sergeant of the Thirty-third British Regiment, looking into it 
with an expression of generous sympathy, said, " You appear, 
sir, severely injured, and much exhausted by the loss of blood. 
Take my canteen : its contents may revive and strengthen you." 
An expression of compassionate feeling, at all times fascinat- 
ing, could not at such a period be received but with peculiar 
gratitude. The gift was accepted, and contained wine of an 
excellent quality. Let me suppose that other soldiers were 
supplied with liquor as liberally as this benevolent sergeant, 
and how great the contrast with the condition of our unfortu- 
nates, who, for many days previous to the battle, had not, even 
under the pressure of their greatest fatigues, been cheered with 
a single glass of spirits. Dr. William Read, superintending 
the Continental Hospital at Hillsborough subsequent to the 
defeat at Camden, making a representation to Gen. Gates of 
the deplorable condition of the sick and wounded, was asked 
by him, " What have you to comfort them ? " — " Literally 
nothing," repHed Dr. Read. " Then," rejoined the general, 
" their situation is truly deplorable ; since I neither possess 
the means of yielding present relief, nor immediate prospect 
of affording any." 

Even to those who still retained their health, the loss of 



290 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

baggage was attended with incalculable increase of calamity. 
The comfort of a necessary change of linen was denied ; 
and more than one officer, from the impossibility of appear- 
ing with decency on parade, was compelled altogether to 
avoid it. 

Of the deplorable situation of the Continental officers, even 
of the highest grade, some idea may be formed from the fact 
I am about to relate, and which may be relied on as perfectly 
correct. Dr. Fayssoux, joining the army of Gen. Greene in 
North Carolina, called at the hut of Gen. Huger, the second 
in command, but was refused admission. The doctor insisted 
on his right to enter : the sentinel, in conformity to his orders, 
denied it. The altercation was heard by the general, who, 
recognizing the voice of his friend, desired that he might be 
allowed to pass into the hut. " Pardon me, doctor," said the 
general, who lay on the ground, wrapped up in an old mihtary 
cloak, " for giving you so ungracious a reception ; but the 
fact is, the chances of war have robbed me of every comfort, 
and I confined myself to solitude and an old cloak while my 
washerwoman prepares for a future occasion the only shirt I 
own." If an officer of distinguished rank, universally beloved 
and respected, for whose accommodation there was not an 
individual in the service who would not have made sacrifices, 
was thus circumstanced, what must have been the miseries of 
the lower grades, and wretchedness of the private sentinels ? 
Applying to a gentleman, on the accuracy of whose informa- 
tion I could place the most implicit confidence, relative to the 
sufferings of the army after the battle of Guilford, he replied, 
" I have known the whole army subsist for several days on 
Indian corn, grated down on tin canteens, in which holes had 
been punched for the occasion, having no other subsistence of 
bread kind ; every mill having been destroyed by the enemy. 
This was particularly the case during the pursuit of the army 
of Cornwallis retiring upon Wilmington, when such was the 
extremity of suffering from the want of animal food, tliat the 
Continental soldiers were feign to put up with the offal left in 
the slaughter-pens of the retreating army. Of our privations 



MANNING'S PRESENCE OF MIND. 29 1 

relative to the comforts of necessary clothing against the 
inclemencies of a vigorous season, I can with truth assure 
you, that, for the greater part of the winter, I shared with Gen. 
Huger and Col. Kosciusko an old cloak of the general's, being 
without a blanket, or any other protection whatever." 

From long marches, incessant fatigue, and scanty and 
unwholesome food, the diseases which prevailed had, for the 
most part, a malignant tendency ; and stimulants were con- 
sidered as essential to counteract the threatening symptoms. 
Wine, spirit, and the medicines that were most requisite, were 
not to be procured ; and on decoctions of snake-root alone, to 
obtain which the whole country was ransacked, depended the 
xhance to the afflicted of recovery. Where surgery was 
necessary to give relief, the difficulty to the operator was no 
less distressing. When the gallant Capt. Watts of Washing- 
ton's fell at Eutaw, a ball having passed through his lungs. 
Dr. Irvine assured me that he was compelled to cut up a tent 
found on the field to make bandages, before he could dress 
his wounds. On another occasion, I knew a gentleman at- 
tached to the medical department, whose anxious mother, at 
the moment of his departure for the army, apprehending acci- 
dent to himself, slipped six rolls of bandages into his port- 
manteau, and who assured me that, a smart engagement 
speedily following, none other were to be found for the relief 
of the wounded than the bandages in his possession. The 
evidence of the medical gentlemen who still survive, Drs. 
Read, Irvine, Broomfield, and Stephens, if it were necessary 
to call for it, would fully corroborate the statement made of 
the total want of the supplies essential to the support of 
exhausted nature. And in more than one instance I have 
lYiyself beheld the hardy veteran sink into his grave, to whom 
even a small portion of renovating wine or cordial might have 
restored sufficient vigor to resist the fatal pressure of the 
disease. 

Manning's Presence of Mind. 

The intrigues and efforts of Lord Cornwallis to excite in- 
surrection, backed by a very formidable force, had produced 



292 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

among the Highland emigrants a spirit of revolt, which it 
required all the energies of Gen. Greene to counteract before 
it could be matured. The zeal and activity of Lieut.-Col. Lee, 
whose usefulness exceeded calculation, united to his acute- 
ness, and happy talent of obtaining intelligence of every move- 
ment, and of the most secret intentions of the enemy, pointed 
him out as the fittest man for this important service. He was 
accordingly selected, with orders to impede the intercourse of 
Lord Cornwallis with the disaffected, to repress every symp- 
tom of revolt, and promptly to cut off every party that should 
take up arms for Britain. Constantly on the alert, he was equally 
solicitous to give security to his own command, while he 
harassed the enemy. A secure position was on one occasion 
taken near a forked road, one division of which led directly 
to Lord Cornwallis's camp, about six miles distant. The 
ground was chosen in the dusk of evening ; and, to prevent 
surprise, patrols of cavalry were kept out on each fork during 
the night. An order for a movement before day had been 
communicated to every individual, and was executed with 
so little noise and confusion, that Lieut. Manning, waking at 
early dawn, found himself, excepting one soldier, left alone. 
Stephen Green, the attendant of Capt. Cams, lay near him, 
resting on the portmanteau of his superior, and buried in pro- 
found sleep. Being awakened, he was ordered to mount and 
follow, while Manning, hastening towards the fork, hoped to 
fall upon the track, and speedily rejoin his regiment. Much 
rain had fallen during the night ; so that, finding both roads 
equally cut up, Manning chose at hazard, and took the wrong 
one. He had not proceeded far before he saw at the door of 
a log-house a rifleman leaning on his gun, and, apparently, 
placed as a sentinel. Galloping up to him, he inquired if a 
regiment of horse, and body of infantry, had passed that way. 
" Oh, no ! " cried the man (whistling loudly, which brought 
out a dozen others, completely armed, and carrying each a red 
rag in his hat) :" you, I suppose, are one of Greene's men." 
The badge which they bore marked their principles. Without 
the slightest indication of alarm, or even hesitation, Manning 



MANNING 'S PRESENCE OF MIND. 293 

pointed to the portmanteau carried by Green, and exclaimed, 
*' Hush, my good fellow ! no clamor, for God's sake ! I have 
there what will ruin Greene. Point out the road to Lord 
Cornwallis's army ; for all depends upon early intelligence of 
its contents." — " You are an honest fellow " (was the general 
cry), " and have left tlie rebels just in time ; for the whole set- 
tlement are in arms to join Col. Pyle to-morrow" (naming the 
place of rendezvous), " where Col. Tarleton will meet and con- 
duct us to camp." — " Come," said the man to whom he had 
first spoken, "take a drink : ' Here's confusion to Greene, and 
success to the king and his friends.' This is the right road; 
and you will soon reach the army, or, rather, let me conduct 
you to it myself." — " Not for the world, my dear fellow!" 
replied Manning. " Your direction is plain ; and I can follow 
it. I will never consent that a faithful subject of his Majesty 
should be subjected to the dangers of captivity or death on 
my account. If we should fall in with a party of rebels, and 
we cannot say that they are not in the neighborhood now, we 
should both lose our lives. I should be hanged for desertion ; 
and you, for aiding me to reach the British army." This 
speech produced the effect he desired. The libation con- 
cluded. Manning rode ofT, amid the cheers of the company, 
and, when out of sight, crossed to the other road, and ur- 
ging his horse to full speed, in a short time overtook and 
communicated the interesting intelligence to his commander. 
Lee was then meditating an attack upon Tarleton, who had 
crossed the Haw River to support the insurgents ; but, per- 
ceiving the vast importance of crushing the revolt in the bud, 
he informed Gen. Greene of his plan by a confidential mes- 
senger, and hastened to the point of rendezvous, where Pyle, 
with upwards of four hundred men, had already arrived. It 
is unnecessary to detail the sanguinary scene which followed. 
Pyle, completely deceived, and, to the last, believing the 
Legionary Dragoons the soldiers of Tarleton, was overpow- 
ered, and, with a considerable portion of his force, became 
victims of credulity. 

Many other proofs could be adduced of Manning's pres- 



294 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

ence of mind, and cool intrepidity in action. It is grateful 
to me to mention one of these. At the battle of Eutaw, after 
the British line had been broken, and the Old Buffs^ a regi- 
ment that had boasted of the extraordinary feats that they 
were to perform, were running from the field, Manning, in 
the enthusiasm of that valor for which he was so eminently 
distinguished, sprang forward in pursuit, directing the pla- 
toon which he commanded to follow him. He did not cast 
an eye behind him until he found himself near a large brick 
house, into which the York Volunteers, commanded by Cru- 
ger, were retiring. The British were on all sides of him, 
and not an American soldier nearer than one hundred and 
fifty or two hundred yards. He did not hesitate a moment, 
but, springing at an officer who was near him, seized him by 
the collar, and exclaiming in a harsh tone of voice, " Damn 
you, sir ! you are my prisoner," wrested his sword from his 
grasp, dragged him by force from the house, and, keeping his 
body as a shield of defence from the heavy fire sustained 
from the windows, carried him off without receiving any 
injury. Manning has often related, that, at the moment when 
he expected that his prisoner would have made an effort for 
liberty, he, with great solemnity, commenced an enumeration 
of his titles : " I am, sir, Henry Barry, Deputy Adjutant 
General of the British Army, Captain in the Fifty-second 
Regiment, Secretary to the Commandant of Charleston." — 
"Enough, enough, sir," said the victor: "you are just the 
man I was looking for. P'ear nothing for your life : you shall 
screen me from danger, and I will take special care of yoii.^'' 
He had retired in this manner some distance from the brick 
house, when he saw Capt. Robert Joictt of the Virginia line, 
engaged in single combat with a British officer. They, had 
selected each other for battle a little before ; the American 
armed with a broad-sword, the Briton with a musket and 
bayonet. As they came together, a thrust was made at 
Joiett, which he happily parried ; and both dropping their 
artificial weapons, being too much in contact to use them with 
effect, resorted to those with which they had been furnished 



COLONEL PETER HORRY. 295 

by Nature. They were both men of great bulk and vigor ; and 
while struggling, each anxious to bring his adversary to the 
ground, a grenadier, who saw the contest, ran to the assist- 
ance of his officer, made a longe with his bayonet, missed 
Joiett's body, but drove it beyond the curve into his coat. 
In attempting to withdraw the entangled weapon, he threw 
both the combatants to the ground ; when, getting it free, he 
raised it deliberately, determined not to fail again in his pur- 
pose, but to transfix Joiett. It was at this crisis that Man- 
ning approached, not near enough, however, to reach the 
grenadier with his arm. In order to gain time, and to arrest 
the stroke, he exclaimed in an angry and authoritative tone, 
" You damned brute ! will you murder the gentleman ? " The 
soldier, supposing himself addressed by one of his own 
officers, suspended the contemplated blow, and looked around 
to see tlie person who had thus spoken to him. Before he 
could recover from the surprise into which he had been 
thrown, Manning, now sufficiently near, smote him with his 
sword across the eyes, and felled him to the ground ; while 
Joiett, disengaged himself from his opponent, and, snatching 
up the musket as he attempted to rise, laid him dead by a 
blow from the butt-end of it. Manning was of inferior size, 
but strong and remarkably well formed ; Joiett, literally speak- 
ing, a giant. This, probably, led Barry, who could not have 
wished the particulars of his capture to be commented on, to 
reply, when asked by his brother-officers how he came to be 
taken, " I was overpowered by a huge Virginian." 

Colonel Peter Horry. 

This officer was a descendant of one of the many Protes- 
tant families who removed to Carolina from France after the 
revocation of the Edict of Nantes. He early took up arms in 
defence of his country, and, through all the trials of peril and 
privation experienced by Marion's brigade, gave ample proof 
of his strict integrity and undaunted courage. The fame 
which he acquired as one of the band of heroes who defended 
the post at Sullivan's Island was never tarnished. For 



296 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

although, in a moment of despondency, he once said to his 
general, " I fear our happy days are all gone by," it was not 
the consequences that might accrue to himself, but the mis- 
eries apprehended for his country, that caused the exclama- 
tion ; for nev-er were his principles shaken : never, even for 
a moment, did the thought of submission enter his bosom. 
No man more eagerly sought the foe ; none braved danger 
with greater intrepidity, or more strenuously endeavored to 
sustain the military reputation of his country. A ludicrous 
story is told of him, that, though probably varied in the 
narration, has its foundation in truth. Col. Horry was once 
ordered to wait the approach of a British detatchment in 
ambuscade, — a service he performed with such skill, that he 
had them completely within his power ; when from a dreadful 
impediment in his speech, by which he was afflicted, he could 
not articulate the word "/vrt'/" In vain he made the attempt : 
it was " Fi^fi^fiyfi! " but he could get no further. At length, 
irritated almost to madness, he exclaimed, '■'■Shoot, damn you ! 
shoot / You know very well what I would say. Shoot, shoot, 
and be damn'd to you ! " He was present in every engagement 
of consequence, and on all occasions increased his reputation. 
At Ouimby, Col. Baxter, a gallant soldier, possessed of great 
coolness, and still greater simplicity of character, calling out, 
" I am wounded, colonel," Horry replied, " Think no more of 
it, Baxter, but stand to your post." — " But I can't stand, colo- 
nel : I am wounded a second time ! " — " Then He down, Bax- 
ter; but quit not your post." — " Colonel," cried the wounded 
man, " they have shot me again ; and, if I remain any longer 
here, I shall be shot to pieces." — " Be it so, Baxter ; but stir 
not." He obeyed the order, and actually received a fourth 
wound before the engagement ended. 

Dr. Skinner. 

I had, during the last campaign in the South, continued 
opportunity of witnessing the eccentricities of this extraor- 
dinary character ; but while I admired his facetious and 
entertaining conversation, his exquisite hu;nor, and occasional 



DR. SKINNER. 29/ 

exhibition of sportive or pointed irony, I could not but con- 
sider him as a very dangerous companion. Col. Lee has 
stated that he had a dire objection to the field of battle, yet, 
in private society, was always ready for a quarrel. It might be 
truly asserted that it required infinite circumspection not to 
come to points with him, since he really appeared to consider 
tilting as a pleasing pastime, and was (as an Irish soldier once 
said of him) "an honest fellow, just as ready to fight as eat." 
In his regiment, and among his intimates, he was regarded as 
a privileged man, and allowed to throw the shafts of his wit 
with impunity. This was a fortunate circumstance, as he 
would at any time rather have risked the loss of his friend 
than the opportunity of applying a satirical observation in 
point. When first he appeared in the lower country, he wore 
a long beard and huge fur cap ; the latter through necessity, 
the first from some superstitious notion the meaning of which 
it was impossible to penetrate. An officer who really esteemed 
him, asking him why he suffered his beard to grow to such an 
unusual length, he tartly replied, "It is a secret, sir, betwixt 
my God and myself, that human impertinence shall never 
penetrate." On a night alarm at Ninety-six, as Col. Lee was 
hastening forward to ascertain the cause, he met Skinner in 
full retreat, and, stopping him, said, "What is the matter, 
doctor ? Whither so fast t Not frightened, I hope ? " — " No, 
colonel, no," replied Skinner, " not absolutely frightened ; but, 
I candidly confess, most damnably alarmed." His strong 
resemblance to the character of Falstaff, which Col. Lee has 
also noticed, was very remarkable. " He was witty himself, 
and the cause of wit in others." Like the fat knight, too, 
in the calculation of chances, not over scrupulous in distinc- 
tions betwixt ineum and tuiim^ and I should decidedly say, 
in his narrations of broils and batdes, too much under the 
influence of Shrewsbury clock. I have seldom met with a 
man more fond of good and dainty cheer, or a more devoted 
idolater of good wine ; but, when they were not to be met 
with, the plainest food and most simple liquor were enjoyed 
with the highest relish. A lady of the lower country, address- 



298 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

ing herself to a young officer who had been much accustomed 
to enjoy every species of luxury, asked how he had supported 
the privations experienced during the last campaign in the 
interior, he replied, that hunger made a simple rasher on the 
coals as delicious as the most sumptuous fare ; and, where 
wine could not be obtained, he relished whiskey. " I am 
grieved, my young friend," said Skinner with great gravity, 
" mortified beyond expression to hear such a declaration from 
your lips, since it has long been my opinion that the man who 
would drink so mean a hquor as whiskey would steal." 

In person. Skinner was not unlike the representation gen- 
erally given of Sancho ; in his government, exhibiting extrava- 
gant pretensions to state and self-consequence. Nor was 
he insensible to tlie influences of the tender passion. He not 
only could love, but he believed himself possessed of every 
requisite to inspire passion, particularly priding himself upon 
a roguish leer with the eye, that he deemed irresistible. 
When disencumbered of his beard, he was presented at Sandy 
Hill (the point of attraction to all the military) to Mrs. Charles 
Elliott, the amiable and benevolent hostess of the mansion. 
The facetious Capt. Cams, who was his friend on the occasion, 
indulging his natural propensity to quiz, pointed her out to 
Skinner as an object highiy worth the attention of a man of 
enterprise. The bait was attractive ; and he bit at it with the 
eagerness of a hungry gudgeon. On his first appearance. 
Skinner had shown evident marks of confusion on account of 
the uncouth appearance of his cap. Mrs. Elliott had perceived 
it, and, retiring for an instant, returned with an elegant mili- 
tary hat, which she placed on his head, and, gracefully bowing, 
ran off. Skinner was mute with astonishment. He looked at 
the hat and at the lady, and then at the hat again, and, turning 
to his friend, seemed, in the language of Falstaff, to say, — 

" Her eye did seem to scorch me like a burning-glass." 

The expression of his countenance was to Cams a suffi- 
cient indication of the agitation of his bosom. The hint was 



DR. SKINNER. 299 

not lost. *' Well," he feelingly exclaimed, " if ever a broad 
and palpable invitation was given, this certainly may be con- 
sidered as such. Why, Skinner, what charm, what philter, do 
you use 4;o produce such havoc ? " — " Fie, fie ! " said the en- 
raptured doctor, adjusting his dress, and rising upon tip-toe. 
" Tempt me not, my friend, to make myself ridiculous. Mine 
is not a figure to attract the attention of a fair lady : it cannot, 
cannot happen ! " — "I will not," rejoined Cams, " compliment 
you, Skinner, on your personal attractions. You are a man 
of sense, a man of discernment, too wise to be flattered ; but I 
certainly have seen men less elegantly formed than you are, and 
altogether without that je ne sais quoi so fascinating, that you 
pre-eminently possess : besides, you have a fine, open, healthy 
countenance, a prepossessing smile, and a prodigiously bril- 
liant and piercing eye." — "Ah, ha!" cried Skinner, "have 
you discovered that? You are a man of penetration, a man 
of taste! Yes, Cams, I have an eye; and if it has its usual 
trick, its tender expression (you understand what I would say), 
I may, perhaps, be happy." Cams, for a time, gave indul- 
gence to the effusions of his vanity, but would not suffer him 
to make himself completely ridiculous. Love was very speedi- 
ly forgotten ; and a kind invitation to feel himself at home in 
the most hospitable mansion in the State made Skinner the 
proudest and happiest of men. 

Falstaff maintained that it was proper for every man " to 
labor in his vocation." Skinner asserted " that every man 
had his sphere of action, beyond the limits of which he ought 
never to emerge." "Mine," said he. "amidst the tumults of 
war, the conflicts of battle, is in the rear. There I am always 
to be found. I am firm at my post. What did Matthew 
Irvine get by quitting his ? A wound, a villanous wound ! 
Shall I follow his example, step out of my sphere, and set 
myself up as a mark to be shot at ? Oh, no ! I am a stickler 
for the strict performance of duty, but feel no ambition to 
shine beyond it." 

Being asked which of the ladies of South Carohna pos- 
sessed, in his estimation, the greatest attractions, he very 



300 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

readily replied, " The widow Izard, beyond all comparison. 
I never pass her magnificent sideboard, but the plate seems 
ready to tumble into my pocket." 

Arriving near the bank of the river, on the night of the 
contemplated attack upon John's Island, he was asked wheth- 
er he intended to pass the ford. 

" By no means ! " replied Skinner. " I am not fond of 
romantic enterprise, and will not seek for perilous achieve- 
ments where the elements, more than the enemy, are to be 
dreaded. The river is too deep, and my spirits are not buoy- 
ant : I should sink, to a certainty, and meet a watery grave. 
Death by water-drinking ! I shudder at the thought of it. I 
will remain and take care of the baggage ; and as many of 
you as can boast a change may be sure to meet, at your 
return, the comforts of clean linen, and the most cordial 
welcome that I can give you." 

Lafayette and Huger. 

[Major Huger of South Carolina was an officer who fell 
before Charleston ; but of his son. Col. Francis Kinlock 
Huger, there is an anecdote related by Major Garden, which, 
while not strictly pertaining to Revolutionary times, has an 
interest and appropriateness, on account of the incident which 
it narrates of a payment of the debt which the country owes 
Lafayette. That general had been received into Major Huger's 
family on his first arrival in this country ; and the memory of 
his visit was so kept alive, that, when the occasion came, the 
enthusiasm and affection of a son of the house displayed 
itself in a very chivalric form. Lafayette, it will be remem- 
bered, left France when the Jacobins were in the ascendency, 
in 1792, but was arrested by the Austrians, and confined at 
Olmutz.] 

The anxious wish to free from captivity a man who had 
boldly stepped forward, the champion of liberty, originated 
with Dr. BoUman,! a young Hanoverian, active, intrepid, and 

* Garden afterward corrects this statement, and shows Bollman to have been the 
instrument of Lafayette's former aides. 



LAFAYETTE AND IIUGER. 3OI 

intelligent, but communicated confidentially to his friend 
Huger, with an inquiry if he was inclined to second the enter- 
prise ; it was embraced with alacrity, and entered on with an 
ardor that insured his unremitted efforts to produce its accom- 
plishment. The preparatory arrangements were speedily 
setded. Huger feigned indisposition ; and, Bollman assuming 
the character of his attending physician, horses were pur- 
chased ; and, after visiting several German cities, the friends 
arrived at Olmutz. Constandy intent on the object of their 
association, an acquaintance was speedily formed with the 
jailer to whose custody the illustrious prisoner was committed, 
and without appearing to take too great an interest in his fate, 
by speaking occasionally of the severity of his treatment, which 
they candidly acknowledged they thought disproportioned 
to his offence, obtained permission to send him books that 
might beguile the tedium of sohtude, and afford some miti- 
gation of his griefs. The jailer, a simple, benevolent man, 
saw no impropriety in the transaction while the books deliv- 
ered were subjected to his inspection, and the opportunity 
afforded of ascertaining that there was nothing improper in 
their contents. Thus a correspondence was established. La- 
fayette, informed of the source of this unhoped-for indul- 
gence, at once conceived that more was meant than met the 
eye. He therefore carefully perused the book, and found, in 
different places, words written with a pencil, which, being put 
together, gave him the names of the parties, and a clew to 
their designs, which, if approved, would at once determine 
them, at all hazards, to free him from his captivity. The 
book was returned with an open note, thanking them for their 
civihty in sending it, and an assurance that it had been read 
with marked atioition^ and that he was, in the highest degree, 
charmed with its contents. In this manner, and by the strata- 
gem of writing in lemon-juice on the back of a note, — in 
its visible contents altogether trivial, with a hint in the 
book sent, " Quand vous aurez lu ce billet, mettez le au 
feu ; " which, when complied with, caused the intended com- 
munication distinctly to appear in legible characters, — he was 



302 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

made acquainted with their arrangements, and the day fixed 
on to put their plans in execution. They had been already 
apprised by the jailer, that his prisoner, though generally 
closely confined, was permitted, under the charge of proper 
attendants, to take exercise without the walls ; that he rode 
in an open cabriolet, accompanied by an officer, and attended 
by an armed soldier, who mounted behind by way of guard ; 
and that, when at a distance from the walls, it was their 
custom to descend and walk together, for the better enjoyment 
of exercise. 

On the day appointed, Lafayette was requested to gain as 
great a distance from the town as possible, and on their ap- 
proach, by an appointed signal, to discover himself, as he was 
unknown to both. 

Every preliminary being arranged, the friends quitted 
Olmutz, well mounted, Bollman leading a third horse, and in 
anxious expectation awaited the approach of the object of 
their soHcitude. 

The city is situated about thirty miles from Silesia, in the 
midst of a plain, which, taking the town as a centre, extends 
three miles each way, without the interposition of woods, rocks, 
or impediments of any kind. From the walls, every thing 
passing within these limits could be distinctly seen. Sentinels 
were posted at all points to give the alarm whenever a prisoner 
endeavored to escape, and considerable rewards promised to 
all who contributed their aid to secure him. These were 
indeed appalling difficulties, but not sufficient to check the 
ardor of youthful enthusiasm, intent to break the chains of a 
hero against whom no accusation rested, but an ardent and 
unceasing effort to better the condition of his fellow-men. 

Lafayette at length appeared, accompanied by his usual 
attendants. The preconcerted signal was given, and returned. 
A conflict speedily succeeded, which gave freedom to the 
prisoner. The led horse was presented by Huger, who ex- 
claimed, " Use the means, sir, that are offered for escape ; and 
may Fortune be your guide ! " But, before he could mount, 
the gleam of the sun upon the sword that had been wrested 



LAFAYETTE AND HUGER. 303 

from the officer startled the animal, who broke his bridle, and 
fled. Bollman rode off in pursuit, hoping to overtake him. In 
the interim, Huger, with a generosity truly chivalric, insisted 
that Lafayette should mount the horse that he himself rode, 
and hasten to the place appointed as a rendezvous. " Fly ! " 
he exclaimed : " the alarm is given, the peasants are assembling. 
Save yourself ! " The advice was followed, and in a little time 
the fugitive was out of sight. Bollman, who had in vain pur- 
sued the frightened horse, now returned, and, taking Huger up 
behind him, galloped away, following the route of Lafayette. 
They had gone but a little way, when the horse, unequal to 
such a burden, stumbled and fell ; and Bollman was so terribly 
bruised as to be scarcely able to rise from the ground. The 
gallant Huger aided his exertions to remount, and, superior 
to every selfish consideration, earnestly entreated him to fol- 
low Lafayette, declaring that he could easily reach the woods 
which bordered the plain, and in their recesses find security. 
Bollman, though with extreme reluctance, complied. 

During the rencounter which had taken place, the soldier 
■who had remained with the cabriolet, instead of assisting his 
officer, ran off towards the town ; but the alarm had been given 
long before his arrival there. The transaction had been seen 
from the walls, the cannon fired, and the country raised. Boll- 
man evaded his pursuers by telling them that he himself was 
in pursuit. Huger, less fortunate, was marked by a party 
who never lost sight of him, and, being overtaken, was seized, 
and carried back In triumph to Olmutz. Meanwhile, Lafayette 
was rapidly advancing in his flight, and had actually progressed 
ten miles, when, arriving at a spot where the road divided, he 
was at a loss which to choose, and unluckily took the wrong 
one. Its direction very speedily induced him to suspect the 
truth ; and he stopped to make inquiry of a man, who, conclud- 
ing that he was a prisoner attempting to escape, gave him a 
wrong direction, running to a magistrate to communicate his 
suspicion ; so that Lafayette, at a moment that he believed 
himself regaining a road that would give him security, found 
himself surrounded by an armed force, and again a prisoner. 



304 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

To the interrogation of the magistrate, his answers were so 
apt and ready, and a tale invented to account for the rapidity 
of his movement so plausible and so satisfactory, that, ex- 
pressing his conviction of his innocence, he was about to dis- 
miss him, when a young man, entering the apartment with 
papers which required magisterial signature, after fixing his 
eyes attentively on the prisoner, said, " This is Gen. Lafayette ! 
I was present when he Avas delivered up by the Prussians to 
the Austrian commandant at . This is the man : I can- 
not be mistaken." This declaration at once settled his fate. 
He, too, was triumphantly conducted to Olmutz. Bollman 
escaped into Prussian Silesia, but, after two days, was arrested, 
and again delivered over to the Austrian authorities. 

On the arrival of Huger at Olmutz, he was carried before 
Count Archo, the military commandant of the city, a veteran 
of high respectability, who conducted himself during the 
examination with gentleness and humanity, but after some 
inquiries, delivered him over to the civil authority. 

Three days after this, chained hand and foot, the dauntless 
enthusiast was again brought before the commandant and civil 
officer, to be further interrogated. The temper and disposition 
towards him seemed now essentially changed. 

The civil officer this day took the lead in the examination ; 
and when Huger complained, with strong expressions of indig- 
nation, of his treatment, the judge imperiously demanded, 
" Know you, sir, the forfeit of your conduct 1 " An answer 
being returned in the negative, he very solemnly and impres- 
sively replied, " Your life ! " But, apparently in order to 
remove the impression that such a sentence was calculated to 
produce. Count Archo immediately turned the discourse into 
a panegyric upon the emperor, telling him that his youth, his 
motives, and conduct, could not but secure his clemency. 
" Clemency ! " said Huger. " How can I expect it from a man 
who did not act even with justice towards Lafayette .'' " A 
check was immediately given to the boldness of the prisoner ; 
and Count Archo then mildly added, " I judge of others from 
my own feehngs. The attempt to injure me I freely forgive ; 



ANECDOTE OF JOSEPH WIG FALL. 305 

and, if ever I shall need a friend, I wish that friend may be an 
American." ^ 

Anecdote of Joseph Wigfall. 

[From the newspapers of the day, some incidents may be 
taken, though the whole style of journalism was so different 
from that now prevailing, as to render the papers less abun- 
dant in material made to hand than would be the case now. 
We take the following from the Pennsylvania Packet of July 
15, 1780.] 

When it was found necessary to call in the detachment of 
American troops which had been posted at Lampriere's Ferry,^ 
opposite to Charleston, S.C, three men of Gen. Hogan's North- 
Carolina brigade were by some accident left behind, who, 
being in danger of falling into the enemy's hands, took 
shelter in the woods, and were travelling on towards George- 
town. In hopes of facilitating their march, and to profit by 
misfortune, one of them, who was clad in scarlet, suggested a 
stratagem of which his comrades approved, and which he 
carried into effect. He left his arms and ammunition with the 
other two, and went into the plantation of a poltroon Tory, or 
one of those mean-spirited wretches who ought forever to be 
stigmatized under the character of property-men, and to be 
made fair game to all parties. These creatures were early 
eager and noisy in fomenting the present war, but withdrew 
themselves the moment their fears dictated danger to their 
persons or their estates. 

The brave North-Carolinian personated a messenger de- 
spatched by some of that tribe, and addressed the owner of 
the plantation in the following terms : " Sir, I understand you 
are a friend to the king and his government." The property- 
man, not a little alarmed' at the sight of a Red-coat, hastily 

* Major Garden seems to think he has told all his story, and perhaps he has. 
The reader may be glad to be assured, however, that Huger was released after a 
short confinement, and Lafayette remained about two years in prison. 

2 After the British had been strengthened by the re-enforcements from New York, 
on the iSth of April, they took post on Haddrell's Point, and obliged the Americans 
to abandon their post at Lampriere's Ferry. 
20 



306 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

interrupted him, " Yes, yes, sir ! I am as true, faithful, and 
loyal a subject as any in his Majesty's dominions." — "I have 
been told so," said the soldier. " I am sent by some of his 
Majesty's friends to inform Lord Cornwallis of the approach 
of a rebel army from the northward, which is coming on very 
rapidly, and I am afraid will surprise that part of the king's 
army which his lordship commands in this quarter of the 
country, unless his lordship is speedily apprised of their design. 
I have travelled through swamps and thick woods to avoid 
being stopped by the rebels, and last night had the misfortune 
to lose my horse, saddle, &c." — " Sir," replied the Tory, "you 
shall have the best horse I am master of, — my own riding- 
horse ; and I beg you will be expeditious in delivering your 
message ; for, if the rebels come here, I shall be ruined, per- 
haps hanged. I don't know what they'll do to me, because I 
am a faithful subject. — Boy, saddle Spider, and bring him 
immediately for this gentleman : make haste ! " Spider, a fine 
blooded horse was produced, with saddle, bridle, holsters, and 
pistols. This encouraged the soldier to intimate the loss of 
his side-arms. The turncoat, with equal haste, supplied him 
with his own militia sword. When the soldier was ready to 
mount, he remarked, the weather looked gloomy, and threatened 
rain, and that, among other articles, he had lost his surtout. 
" Sir," said the apostate, " I have a very fine roculoe at your 
service : pray make use of it, and go on as fast as possible, 
through wet and dry : your business is of great consequence." 
Thus equipped, the soldier rode off, and presently rejoined his 
companions, who were waiting for him in the bush. The three, 
all armed, and one mounted, proceeded on their journey for 
Georgetown. When they had marched a few miles, they 
encountered two of the British light-horse, who had been 
marauding, and plundering helpless women of their apparel. 
These fellows they took into custody, and conducted them 
safely into Georgetown, together with Spider and his furniture, 
the captured cavalry and their accoutrements, the silver- 
mounted sword, and the "very fine roculoe," splendidly marked 
on the cape, Joseph Wigfall. 



DUEL BETWEEN HALEY AND DELANCY. 307 

Duel between Dr. Haley and Delancy. 

[From the " Traditions and Reminiscences of Dr. Joseph 
Johnson," we take the remaining incidents in this volume.] 

In 1 77 1, on the i6th of August, an altercation arose, at a 
genteel house of entertainment in St. Michael's Alley, between 
Dr. John Haley and Delancy, — an elegant, accompHshed 
royalist of New York, a brother of Mrs. Ralph Izard. De- 
lancy being irritated, probably from being foiled in argument, 
insulted Dr. Haley by giving him the "lie." Haley immedi- 
ately challenged Delancy to fight with pistols at that house, 
and proposed that they should go together to an upper room, 
alone, and without seconds. Delancy accepted the challenge 
and the proposed arrangement. He took one of the pistols 
offered to him by Haley. They fought across a table, fired at 
the same moment ; and Delancy was killed. 

Dr. Haley was an Irishman by birth, an eminent practi- 
tioner of medicine in Charleston. He warmly espoused the 
popular cause in opposition to royalty, and, as a man of edu- 
cation and influence, was much encouraged by the leaders of 
the incipient revolution. Delancy being a very distinguished 
man among the Royalists, much irritation was exhibited among 
them at his death and the circumstances attending it. The 
Whigs, on the other hand, defended Dr. Haley, and concealed 
him until his trial came on. During this concealment, beinsf 
secluded from society, and deprived of his usual occupations 
of mind and body, he became melancholy; and this depression 
was increased by an accidental occurrence that took place 
while he was in this seclusion. In passing, after dark, across 
the enclosure where he staid in the country, a clothes-line, 
which had been left extended and unseen, suddenly caught 
him by the throat, and stopped his course. He considered 
this to be ominous of his fate ; and the impression could not 
be dispelled by the reasoning or the jokes of his friends. He 
may have imbibed superstitious fears from nursery-tales in his 
youth, which sometimes, even in manhood, imbitter the feel- 
ings. The firmest minds have their moments of weakness ; 



308 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

and, in his situation, such depression might be expected. Dr. 
Haley knew, that having fought without witnesses, and killed 
his opponent, the laws of his country, and the usages of 
courts, considered him a murderer, and that he must be tried 
for his life. His cause, however, had been taken up as a 
party dispute. Thomas Heyward, the Pinckneys, and the 
Rutledges, defended him in his trial. They proved that De- 
lancy was the aggressor ; that he not only accepted the chal- 
lenge, but the terms also ; that he took Haley's offered pistol, 
and voluntarily followed him up stairs into a private room, as 
had been proposed ; that he fired with intent to kill Haley with 
his own pistol, for the two balls with which it was loaded were 
taken out of the wall just back of his adversary, — one on each 
side of where he stood. Haley was acquitted ; and his acquital 
was considered a great triumph by the Whigs and popular 
party, situated as they were under the royal government. It 
was also considered by the Royalists a proportionate source of 
chagrin. 

Anecdotes of John Walters Gibbs. 
Many anecdotes were told of John Walters Gibbs, but few of 
which are now remembered. Besides being a great humorist, 
he was a gentleman in character and deportment. It is well 
known that rum (made by distillation from fermented sugar 
or molasses) was drunk almost universally at that time in 
America. Many were intemperate in the use of it ; and, 
among others, a man of some note, named Hill, had become 
a drunkard ; and his life was shortened in consequence. Mr. 
Gibbs wrote the following epigram at the time of his death : — 

The essence of the dulcet cane 

Has sunk a " Hill " six feet beneath the plain. 

After the Revolution, Mr. Gibbs found himself, like most 
others, in narrow circumstances, and opened a counting-house 
in his former line as broker and auctioneer. He was unedu- 
cated in the Wall-street school ; and, after various expedients 
to draw attention and obtain employment, he said that he was so 
much reduced, that he was alarmed if he heard his wife speak 



ANECDOTES OF JOHN WALTER GIBBS. 309 

of going out, lest she should purchase something that he was 
unable to pay for, and thus expose his poverty. At length 
he advertised a sum of money to be loaned out, when he had 
scarcely enough to pay for the advertisement. This brought 
many applicants to his office : he had never seen so many 
customers there before. To all of them he expressed himself 
very sorry that they had come so late. The money was all 
disposed of ; but he expected to have more shortly, &c. It 
happened, beyond his expectations, that a gentleman called 
to sa}', that, having read his advcrtisment, he had come, not to 
borrow but to loan money through his agency, supposing him 
lo be best acquainted with the relative credits of borrowers. 
This was just what Mr. Gibbs wanted : it gave him not only 
commissions, but credit and custom. He could now speculate, 
and, as opportunity offered, would sell out at a profit. 

Shortly after this, a gang of negroes was sent to him for 
sale ; and, about the same time, an English merchant called 
with an invoice of wigs, to inquire if there was any chance of 
selling them. He had been misled by some wag in England, 
punning on the party term Whig, who said that Whigs were all 
the rage now in America. Mr. Gibbs promptly undertook to 
sell the wigs, and advertised to sell the negroes on a certain 
day, each havi7tg on a new and fasJiionable wig. Accordingly, 
on the day of sale, a great company assembled ; and the 
negroes were put up for sale, each with a powdered wig over 
his natural black wool, and each wig to be paid for at a guinea 
apiece, let the negroes sell for what they may. The novelty 
of the scene, and Mr. Gibbs's humor, inspired the assembled 
people. The bids were very lively and liberal. The negroes 
were all well sold ; and the powdered, old-fashioned wigs, with 
long cues, and great rolls of curls, all brought a guinea apiece 
in addition. 

During the Revolution, when the citizens were harassed by 
frequent drafts to serve in the militia, and substitutes were 
hired to relieve them from the duty, Mr. Gibbs was still ready 
to amuse himself and others. He was one day on the vendue 
table, professionally engaged, when .a green-looking back- 



3IO THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

woodsman looked up, and asked, " What he was doing thar ? " 
Mr. Gibbs whispered, in answer, that he woukl put the coun- 
tryman in a way of making 200 or 300 dollars, if he would 
come up there, and not interrupt him. He immediately set up 
the countryman for sale, as a substitute, to the highest bidder. 
" Here, gentlemen, is an able-bodied substitute ; will serve 
three months for him who will pay him best. You all see that 
he is sound, sober, honest, and no runaway. Who bids $100 ? 
I will warrant him full of blood and courage. Who bids 
$150,150,200,250? I'll knock him down." At this apparent 
threat, the countryman turned short round to defend himself. 
" That's a brave fellow ! " said Mr. Gibbs : " see how ready he 
is to fight. He is worth $50 more to any man. Who will 
give $300 for this fine fellow .^ It's your bid, sir, $300 : he is 
yours, sir." The countryman now asked, for the first time, 
what he was to do ; and on being told that he must go and 
fight the British, Tories, and Indians, he said very dryly, " I 
be darned if I do ! " After some further bantering, they 
agreed to let the countryman off, if he would treat them to a 
bowl of punch. 

During the Revolution, Mr. Gibbs was frequently on guard- 
duty in the volunteer company to which he was attached. He 
observed that one member of the company was always ready 
to answer at roll-call morning and evening, but never could 
be found when his squad was called out in turn for patrol. 
Mr. Gibbs found, by Avatching, that this gentleman always 
retired into the church at which the company were stationed, 
and slept all night in the pulpit. For more reasons than one, 
he determined to expose the trick practised on them, and pre- 
vent its continuance. When they were again going on duty, 
Mr. Gibbs procured a calf, and secured it secretly in the pul- 
pit before the meeting of the company. After roll-call, his 
sleepy companion strolled off as usual. Mr. Gibbs kept his 
eye upon him, but said nothing. After a while, a tremendous 
outcry and downfall was heard in the church ; and Mr. Gibbs, 
taking a light, called on the company present to go with him, 
and see if any thing supernatural would make its appearance. 



GEISr. THOMAS POLK OF NORTH CAROLINA. 3II 

The group soon arrived at the foot of the pulpit-stairs, and, 
to their astonishment, found their comrade prostrate on the 
floor, and the calf, dazzled by the light, standing mutely over 
him. After removing the calf, their comrade came to his 
senses, and declared, that, when he heard the scraping and 
rattling made by the cloven-footed animal in the pulpit, he 
really believed it to be the Devil, come to punish him for his 
irreverence in this case, and for other sins. After this, if ever 
negligent of duty, his fellow-soldiers would only bleat at him 
like a calf, and he became very punctual. 

On one occasion Mr. Gibbs invited a party to dine with 
him, of whom only one or two were his old convivial associ- 
ates in fun and frolic. The rest were all habitual stutterers, 
and, the more they stuttered, the better suited to his purpose. 
He arranged them at table so as to increase the effect. 
Each one was politely asked what he would be helped to, 
what part he would prefer, &c. ; and, while trying hard to 
express their wishes and thanks, there was a general display 
of grimaces, with uncouth but unutterable sounds. Each 
guest must be content to eat what was before him, or be 
laughed at, in his fruitless endeavors to ask for what he would 
have preferred. 

Some of the guests were displeased at the evident intention 
of their host, but were so well plied with his excellent wine, 
so well filled with his good cheer, so well amused with his 
social and entertaining conversation, and with the good 
stories and jokes of those who did not stutter, that they at 
last retired in good humor with Mr. Gibbs, and all the world 
besides. 

Gen. Thomas Polk of North Carolina. 

In the fall of 1782, while a child, I remained two or three 
months in Charlotte with my father's family, I remember to 
have seen the then Gen. Polk and his sons repeatedly. The 
general was plain and unassuming in his deportment, more 
like a farmer or miller than a general. The sons were wild, 
frolicsome blades, four in number, named Charles, William, 



312 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

James, and Ezekiel. I there heard it told that the general 
was, on some occasion, speaking of highway robberies, some- 
times committed by a single man. He expressed his surprise 
at their frequent occurrence, without capture or resistance, 
and went on to say that he had never been robbed, and no 
single man would dare attempt it. His sons all heard it ; and 
Charles resolved to try him. Hearing that his father was 
going on some by-road to receive a sum of money, he way- 
laid him, and demanded the instant delivery of all that he had. 
The father grasped at his pistols, but Charles was too quick 
for him ; and seeing a pistol, as he supposed, presented to his 
breast, he gave up the money, and went home very much 
fretted and mortified at the result. After some condolence 
with their father, the young men inquired the cause of his 
depression, and offered their aid in any difficulties. He then 
told them that he had been robbed of such a sum of money 
on the road designated. They all expressed surprise, and 
asked if he did not go armed on that occasion. He acknowl- 
edged that he had his pistols, but had not time to use them. 
They then, with apparently greater surprise, concluded that 
there must have been several highwaymen associated ; and he, 
with increased mortification, acknowledged that there was but 
one, but said he was taken by surprise, and off his guard. 
The three youngest sons then retired ; and Charles, returning 
the money, acknowledged that he had taken it from him. 
"What!" said the general: "and did you endanger your 
father's life ? " — " No, sir ! " said Charles. " What ! did you 
not present a pistol to my breast 1 " — " No, sir ! " said Charles. 
" How can you say that ? " said the father. " I assure you, 
sir," said Charles, "it was only my mother's brass candle- 
stick, that I took off from your own mantlepiece." 

Peeling a Prisoner. 

Fort Watson, it will be remembered, was a British fort, 
built on the top of an Indian mound, at least forty feet above 
the surrounding country, near the margin of Scott's Lake, on 
the upper part of Santee River. When this fort was taken 



VIOLENT SURGERY. 313 

by the united forces of Marion and Lee, Lieut. Manning, of 
Lee's legion, was one of the officers ordered to take charge of 
the prisoners. The Americans were very destitute of clothing, 
food, and other necessaries. When the inhabitants of the fort 
inarched out, Manning observed one of them, uncommonly 
stout for his height, and yet thin in his face : his name was 
Rosher. Manning went up to him, and asked, " What have 
you here, my good fellow? Is all this from good hving? " — 
" No," said Rosher, " we often suffered very much for want 
of food, and, but for our surrender, should soon have suffered 
cruelly." — Well, then, my good fellow, unbutton, and show 
us what makes you so corpulent : unburden yourself." So 
the soldier commenced to take off coat after coat, waistcoat 
after waistcoat, and shirt after shirt, until he had removed a 
dozen, or more ; Manning all the while, encouraging him. 
" Come, pull away, my good fellow : be quick, if you please ! 
You are a godsend to my half-clad comrades. Be in a hurry, 
if you please ! " until he came down to his old buff friend, of 
which Manning did not wish to fleece him. "^Now, my good 
fellow, be pleased to try it lower down." So Rosher contin- 
ued to take off breeches after breeches, stockings after stock- 
ings, &c., until he had nearly got all off. Lieut. Manning then 
told him to choose a suit of the best, and be thankful to the 
Americans, who had kindly saved him from starving in that 
bit of a fort. Rosher resided, several years after the peace, 
in the neighborhood of Fort Watson, and often told this story 
himself among his other adventures. 

Violent Surgery. 

Among the most active and daring of Marion's men were 
Robert Simons and William Withers, two young men equally 
inconsiderate. They had been sent together on some confi- 
dential expedition, and, while resting at noon for refreshment, 
Withers, a practised shot, was examining his pistols to see if 
they were in prime order for any emergency ; while Simons 
sat near him, either reading, or absorbed in thought, or the 
want of thought — a revery. "Bob," said Withers, "if you 



314 THE SOUTHERN COLONIES. 

had not that bump on the bridge of your nose, you would be a 
Hkely young fellow." — " Do you think so ? " said Simons, and 
again sunk into his revery. Withers, for want of something 
else to do, was pointing his pistol at different objects, to steady 
his hand, and practise the grasp, weight, and level of his favorite 
weapons. At last, as Simons sat sideways to him, Withers's 
eyes were again attracted by the prominent bridge of his nose. 
" Bob," said Withers, " I think that I can shoot off that ugly 
bump on your nose." — "Ah ! " said Bob. '• Shall I shoot ? " 
said Withers. " Shoot," said Bob ; and crack went the pistol. 
The ball could not have been better aimed : it struck the 
projecting bridge, and demolished it forever. The bone was, 
of course, shattered ; and, instead of Simons being improved 
in his appearance, he became a very ugly man. I knew 
Robert Simons personally : he lived many years at a planta- 
tion on Ashley River, called Mount Gerizim. 



\ 




INDEX. 



Adams, Mrs. John, sketches prominent 
officers, 34, 35. 

Affectation of French manners, 232. 

Albanians, education and early habits of 
the, 125 ; amusements, 127 ; rural ex- 
cursions, 129; winter amusements, 132; 
fashionable pig-stealing, 133. 

Albany, N.Y., 122 ; its neighborhood, 
124. 

Almanacks, a staple article of reading, 
113- 

Ambruster, 243. 

Amusements in Albany, 127 ; in winter, 
132. 

Anbiirey, Lieut., a British officer who 
keeps his eyes open after being taken 
prisoner, 42. 

Andre, Major, the pretext for Trumbull's 
arrest, 65 ; paints decorations for the 
Meschianza at Philadelphia, 263. 

Andrews, John, letters from, 19, 21, 26. 

Apprentice, the trials of an, 116; an old- 
fashioned, 241. 

Architectui-e, Trumbull advised to devote 
himself to, 74. 

Aunt, a universal, 159. 

Balch, Nathan, hatter to the Boston 

rulers, 49. 
Ball, Col., 190. 
Barn, Col. Schuyler's, 149. 
Barrell, William, 19. 



Baxter, Col., shot horizontally at his post, 
296. 

B c, the Chevalier du, 248. 

Beaujolais, 251. 

Beissel, 254. 

Bettys, Joe, 190. 

Beveridge, John, 205 ; his unequal con- 
tests with his pupils, 206. 

" Blockade of Boston, the," 24. 

" Blockheads, the," a farce, 25. 

Bollman, Dr., attempts, with Huger, to 
rescue Lafayette, 300. 

Books in the last century, a boy's, 114. 

Boston, the siege of, 19, 28 ; evacuation 
of, 26. 

Brickett, Gen., not above selling his 
boots, 43. 

Buckingham, Joseph Tinker, 107 ; his 
early recollections, 108 ; the poverty of 
his childhood, 109 ; his first schooling, 
no ; his experience at a district school, 
111 ; puzzled over Watts's Hymns, 112; 
keeps the wolf from the mental door 
by reading almanacks, 113 ; the books 
he owned and read, 114 ; is apprenticed 
in the printing trade, 115 ; enters the 
office of " The Greenfield Gazette," 
116; enormously rich on ^6.75, 117; 
sets upas a philologist, 118; goes to 
Boston, 119. 

Bunker Hill, Trumbull's picture of, 76. 

Burgoyne, Gen. John, 24, 172, 173, 174. 



3i6 



INDEX. 



Burke, Edmund, visits Trumbull, 72 ; 
advises him to devote hiinself to archi- 
tecture, 74 ; attacks the king's speech, 
gi. 

Bushnell, D., inventor of the great tor- 
pedo, 185. 

Byles, Dr. Mather, 22 ; his daughters, 22, 
23. 

Cabot, Pierre, 252. 

Cadwallader, Gen., shares with Massey 
the biscuit-maker the honor of being 
the best skater, 216. 

Cambridge camp, soldiers in, 29. 

Cannon-balls have more momentum than 
innocent soldiers suspect, 60. 

Cams, Capt., and Dr. Skinner, 298. 

Carter, John, has his picture unpleas- 
antly drawn by the Baroness Riedesel, 
38 ; but agreeably afterward by Trum- 
bull, whom he befriends, 78. 

Chastellux, Marquis de, visits Gov. 
Trumbull, 52 ; describes new settle- 
ments, 103 ; visits Washington, 193 ; 
discourses on toasting, 197 ; visits 
Princeton and Dr. Witherspoon, 200. 

Chocolate, 241. 

Chovet, Dr., 269, 273. 

Church, John Barker, 79. 

Churchill's Rosciad, quoted, 222, 223. 

Cincinnatus, an American, 288. 

Circumstance spelled with an .9, 213. 

Coasting, or sliding down hill, under 
Scotch observation, 132. 

Coghlan, Mrs., 181. 

College customs, 45. 

College president, an old-time, 49. 

Commons at college, 47. 

Connecticut and Athens, 73. 

Copley, John Singleton, 56 ; visited by 
Trumbull, 56 ; paints Elkanah Wat- 
son's portrait, 88 ; is present at the 
king's recognition of the United States, 
89, 91. 

Cornwallis, Lord, 257, 288, 290. 

Craft, Benjamin, a passage from his jour- 
nal, 29. 

Crevecoeur, Hector St. John, 92. 



Cuyler, Mrs. Cornelius, 160. 

Darrah, Lydia, 274. , 

De Grasse, Admiral, 278. ^ 
Delancy and Haley's duel, 306. 
Dickman, Thomas, publisher of "The 

Greenfield Gazette,'' 116. 
District school, a New-England, in. 
Doctors, old, 269. 
Dove, James, 202. 
Draper, Sir William, 223. 
Duel between Haley and Delancy, 306. 
Duponceau, P. S., 268. 

Elliott, Mrs. Charles, 29S. 
Ephratah institution, the, 254. 
Etherington, Major George, 226. 
Evacuation of Boston, 26. 

Fahnestock, Dr. W. M., 254. 

Faneuil Hall Theatre, the, 23. 

Farnham, the peruke-king, 49. 

Fashionable pig-stealing, 133. 

Fayssoux, Dr., 290. 

Flag, American, when first hoisted in 
England, 89. 

Flats, the, residence of the Schuylers, 
140 ; the house and rural economy, 
146 ; company at, 153 ; the servants, 
154 ; burning of the house, 164. 

Foote, the comedian, 225. 

Forrest, Col. Thomas, 242. 

Fox, Charles J., visits Trumbull in pris- 
on, 72 ; in the House of Commons, 91. 

Foxcroft, John, vainly utters bad Latin, 
51- 

Franklin, Benjamin, 62 ; introduces 
Trumbull to West, 63 ; has his head 
moulded in wax by Mrs. Wright, S3 ; 
receives Elkanah Watson, 86 ; note of 
Count de Vergennes to, 87. 

French manners, affectation of, 232. 

Fulmer, Cory, and Perkins, the captors 
of Joe Bettj's, 190, 193. 

Furniture, 238. 

Gage's nose in danger, 31. 
Galloway, Joseph, 70. 



INDEX. 



317 



Gates, Gen. Horatio, 6r, 62. 

George III. declares the independence 
of the United States, 8g, go. 

Gibbon's compliment to his landlady, 
219. 

Gibbs, anecdotes of John Walters, 308. 

Grant of Laggan, Mrs., 122; her early 
life, 167 ; introduced to Milton, 169 ; 
made acquainted with Madame Schuy- 
ler, 170. 

Graydon, Alexander, 202. 

Greenness of soldiers, the, 32. 

Haley, Dr. John, his duel with Delancy, 

307. 
Harvard college, social rank in, 45, 
Hedge, Prof. Levi, a reformer of college 

manners, 45. 
Hendricks, John, 243. 
Horrj', Col. Peter, 295. 
How, David, passages from his diary, 29. 
Howe, Gen., 23, 259. 
Huger, Col. Francis Kinlock, 300. 
Huger, Gen., 290. 
Humor, a bit of Yankee, 21. 

Indian families living with the Schuylers, 

139- 
Irvine, Dr., 291. 

Johnson, Dr. Joseph ; Traditions and 

Reminiscences, 307. 
Johnson, Sir William, 161. 
Joiett, Capt. Robert, 294. 

Kalb, Baron de, 219, 220. 
" Kegs, the Battle of the," 228. 
Kirkland, Dr., tells a story about an ob- 
solete college custom, 45. 
Knox, Henry, 194, 195, 

Lafayette, Marquis de, 193, 195; at- 
tempted escape from confinement, 300. 

Lay-brothers, 136. 

Lee, Gen. Charles, sketched by Abigail 
Adams, 35. 

Lee, Hon. John, 71. 

Literary cartridges, 2S0. 



Lock, General, an American Cincinnatus, 

288. 
Loxley, Capt., 208. 

Loyalists, American, in London, 63, 65. 
Lunt, Paul, 29. 
Lyman, Rev. Joseph, beaten in Greek by 

John Trumbull, cetat six, 53 . 

Manners, affectation of French, 232. 

Manning, Lieut., 292, 312. 

Marion's men, two of them, 313. 

" Memories of Youth and Manhood," by 
Sidney Willard, 49. 

Meschianza at Philadelphia, the, 259. 

Mifflin, Thomas, noticed by Abigail 
Adams, 35 ; aide-de-camp to Washing- 
ton, 61. 

M'Lean, Capt. Allen, 275. 

Mohawks, the, 143. 

Moncrieffe, Miss, with Gen. Putnam, 
181 ; toasts Gen. Howe at Putnam's 
table, 182 ; and Gen. Putnam at Gen. 
Howe's table, 184. 

Moody, Master, 53 . 

Miller, William Turner, letters of, 30. 

Moore, Lady, 221. 

Morris, Robert, anecdotes of, 276, 283. 

Music at Ephratah, 254. 

Nantucket described by Crevecoeur, 92 ; 

l^eculiar customs at, 97. 
Nantucket women, 100. 
New-Englanders criticised by Gen. Rie- 

desel, 41, by Lieut. Anburej'-, 41, 44; 

characterized by Gen. Riedesel, 105. 
New-England seacoast life, 92. 
New York, 144. 
North, Lord, caricatured, 113. 
Nose for a target, a, 31 ; surgically 

treated with a pistol-shot, 313. 

O'Brien, Lady Susan, 222. 
Ogle and Friend, 211. 
Opium taken by the women in Nan- 
tucket, 103. 
Orleans, Due de, 251. 

Parsons, Theodore, 57. 



3i8 



INDEX. 



Paxton Boys, the, 208. 

Peeling a prisoner, 312. 

Percy, Lord, 23, 25. 

Philadelphia, habits of society in, 230 ; 
gentlemen's dress in, 233 ; ladies' dress, 
236 ; the entry of the British army 
into, 256 : the Meschianza at, 259. 

Philadelphia schoolmaster, a, 202. 

Plan of the enemy's works made by 
Trumbull, 61. 

Poggi, Antonio di, publisher of engrav- 
ings, 77. 

Polk, Gen. Thomas, of North Carolina, 
311- 

Preparatory studies for admission to col- 
lege, 55. 

Princeton, 200. 

Printing-business in Boston, the, 118. 

Privations during the war, 265 ; of the 
officers, 2 89. 

Putnam, Gen. Israel, 181, 184, 185. 

Raynal, the Abbi^, 217. 

Read, Dr. William, 2S8, 2S9. 

Redman, Dr., 271. 

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, takes Trumbull 
down a peg, 75 ; but unwittingly 
praises his pictures afterwards, 77. 

Richards, Will, a Tartar caught by Ogle, 
212. 

Richardson, Frank, 224. 

Riedesel, the Baroness, at Cambridge, 
36, 37 ; hears dreadful stories, 38 ; is 
surprised at seeing a house moved, 39 ; 
gives a ball, 40; meets with Gen. 
Schuyler, 172 ; falls in with hostile 
people, 176; has a hard time crossing 
the Hudson, 178; sings a song for 
butter, 285 ; visits the Garels in Mary- 
land, 285. 

Riedesel^ Gen., criticises New-England- 
ers, 41 ; characterizes the colonies, 105. 

Riflemen, a sharpshooting company of, 2 1. 

Robichaud, Pere, a French emigre, 57. 

Rochambeau, Count, 278. 

Salt provisions familiar to besieged Bos- 
tonians, 20. 



Saj', Dr. Thomas, 271, 273. 

Schuyler, Col., 138 ; his barn, 149, 

Schuyler, Philip, Col., 140, 142. 

Schuyler, Philip, Gen., and Madame 
Riedesel, 172. 

Schuyler, Miss, the " American Lady," 
138; Marriage, 140; her habits for 
the day, 151 ; resources, 157. 

Servants in the Schuyler family, 154. 

Settlements, new, 103. 

Sharpshooting, 30. 

Shippen, Dr. William, 273. 

Siege of Boston, the, 19, 28. 

Simons, Robert, 313. 

Skinner, Dr , his eccentricities, 296. 

Slate Roof House, the, 217 ; the guests 
at, 219. 

Social rank in college, 45. 

Society in New York, 144. 

Soldiers' diaries and letters, 29, 30. \y 

Spencer, Gen. Joseph, 59. 

Steuben, Baron, 2S0. 

Strange, Mrs. Robert, visited by a fash- 
ionable French lady, who excites Trum- 
bull's laughter, 63. 

Stuart, Gilbert, 64. 

Sullivan, Gen. John, noticed by Abigail 
Adams, 36. 

Surgery, violent, 313. 

Swimming and skating, 214. 

Tailor, a superstitious, 242. 

Target practice on Boston Common, 21. 

Tea, 241. 

Thacher's, Dr. James, portrait of Wash- 
ington, igS. 

Theatre, the FaneuU Hall, 23. 

Thompson, Sir Benjamin, afterward 
Count Rumford, 66. 

Thompson, Charles, 204. 

Tisdale, Nathan, a famous schoolmaster, 
53. 

Toasting, the custom of, 197. 

Tories leaving Boston in a hurry, 26, 27. 

Torpedo, the great, 1S5. 

Tory ladies, two, 22. 

Tothill-fields Bridewell, where Trum- 
bull was mildly confined, 69. 



INDEX, 



319 



Trumbull, Col. John, 52 ; his early 
school-days at Lebanon, 53 ; reads 
Greek at six years, 53 ; develops taste 
for drawing early, 54 ; prepares for 
college, 54: very much bothered by 
his arithmetic, 55 ; enthusiasm for art, 
56 ; enters Harvard, 57 ; becomes do- 
mesticated with a French family, 57; 
uses the college library to feed his love 
for art, 57 ; copies painting, 58 ; grad- 
uates in 1773, 58 ; caught by the war 
fever, 59 ; attaches himself to Gen. 
Spencer, 59 ; makes a plan of the 
works on Boston Neck, 61 ; is promot- 
ed therefor to be aide-de-camp to 
Washington, 61 ; made major of bri- 
gade, 62 ; leaves the service, 62 ; goes 
abroad, 62 ; visits Mrs. Strange, 63 ; 
introduced by Franklin to West, 63 ; 
reported by loyalists, 63 ; meets Gilbert 
Stuart at West's rooms, 64; copies 
West's copies, 64 ; arrested as an off- 
set to Andre, 65 ; brought before a 
magistrate, 67 ; put to his mettle, 68 ; 
examined a second time, 68 ; inTothill- 
fields Bridewell, 69 ; befriended by 
West, 70 ; visited by Fox, Burke, and 
others, 72 ; returns to America, 73 ; 
argues with his shrewd father upon the 
arts, 73, 74 ; returns to London, 74 ; 
resumes work under West, 75 ; is 
snubbed by Reynolds, 75 ; meditates 
subjects of Revolutionary history, 76 ; 
has the satisfaction of retaliating on 
Sir Joshua Reynolds, 77 ; engages in 
the business of historical pictures, 
77 ; finds a banker in John Carter, 
78. 

Trumbull, Gov., 51 ; described by the 
Marquis de Chastellux, 52 ; advises his 
son to give up the fine arts as unprofit- 
able, 74. 

Tyler, Major, marked for arrest, 65. 

Valley Forge, 268. 
Violent surgery, 313. 
Virginia officer, a, beforehand with New 
England inquisitors, 44. 



Wadsworth, Col., has his portrait painted 
by Trumbull, 75, who shows it with 
pride that goeth before destruction to 
Sir Joshua Reynolds, 75. 

Warren, Winslow, a gay young Ameri- 
can, 66. 

Washington, Gen. George, sketched by 
Abigail Adams, 34 ; has his lieaid 
moulded in wax by Mrs. Wright, 82 ; 
a day with, 193 ; sketched by Dr. 
Thacher, 19S ; in Philadelphia, 244 ; 
his dinner-parties^ 246 ; his coach, 247 ; 
his appearance, iJ^r 

Watches, 238. 

Watson, Elkanah, 33 ; takes charge of 
powder for Cambridge, 33 ; dealings 
with Mrs. Wright, 80 ; orders Frank- 
lin's head in wax, 83 ; uses the head in 
practical jokes, 84 ; has an interview 
with Franklin, 86 ; and a note from 
him the next morning, 87 ; has his por- 
trait painted by Copley, 88 ; is present 
in the House of Lords when the king 
recognizes the United States, 89 ; in 
the House of Commons, gi. 

Watson, John F., author of "Annals of 
Philadelphia," 230. 

Webster, Noah, and his text-books, iii, 

"5- 

West, Benjamin, 63 ; his copy of a Cor- 
reggio, 64; concerned about Trum- 
bull' s arrest, 70 ; has an interview in 
his behalf with the king, 71 ; receives 
Trumbull again into his house, 75 ; en- 
courages him to paint historical pictures, 
77- 

West, Samuel, an eccentric minister, 
commonly called Pater West, 50. 

Whale-fisher>', the beginning of the, 
92. 

Whale-fishing, the mode of, 94. 

Whittling, an invention to prevent Idle- 
ness, 99. 

Wigfall, anecdote of Joseph, 305. 

Wigglesworth, Rev. Michael and "The 
Day of Doom," 113. 

Willard, Joseph, President of Harvard 
College, 45, 49. 



320 



INDEX. 



Willard, Sidney, " Memories of Youth 
and Manhood," 49, 

Winter Hill, the quarters of the German 
prisoners, 36. 

Withers, William, one of Marion's men 
and an excellent shot at noses, 313. 

Witherspoon, Dr., 200 ; receives the Mar- 
quis de Chastellux with such French 
as he has, 200. 



Wright, Mrs., an eccentric moulder of 
wax figures. So; makes a head of 
Washington, S2 ; and of Franklin, 83. 

Wright, Sir Sampson, a police magis- 
trate who tries Trumbull, 67. 

Yankee humor, a bit of, 21. 
Yankees characterized, 43 ; the term 
learnedly explained, 43 . 



" Of more valtie 
Than stamps in gold, or sums in sealed bags.'''' — 

Shakespeare. 

THE 

SANS-SOUCI SERIES. 

Personal Keminiscences of Pamous Poets and Novelists, Wits and Humorists, 
Artists, Actors, Musicians, and the like. 

EDITED BY 

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. 



The Sans-Souci Series is based upon the same general idea that secured such sudden 
md deserved popularity for the Bric-a-Brac Series. In the ten volumes of that collection were 
arefully gathered up the choicest gleanings from numerous biographies and memoirs, published 
luring the last quarter of a century, and nearly all of which would have disappeared into oblivion 
Itogether had it not been for this happy conception, by which the wheat that they contained 
V3.S thus separated from the chaff. But distinguished men and women, or those who have been 
n intimate relations with them, are cortstantly passing away, and biographies, autobiographies, 
nd memoirs are appearing with a rapidity never before equaled. Those wishing to learn the 
jssons that are taught by the lives of the great and good, as they are rehearsed in these volumes, 
re an.xious to get at them as directly as possible ; tho.se who read them for amusement are impa- 
ent of ihe time lost in findmg for themselves the entertaining and the amusing. The skill with 
fh'xch Mr. Stoddard performed this service of gathering for the Bric-a-Bk.ac Series all that de- 
erved to be saved for its worth, or for its wit, is the only introduction he needs as Editor of the 
ans-Souci Series. While it shall be the chief aim of this series to keep abreast of current biog- 
aphies and memoirs, it will also venture into fields which have heretofore been left untouched. 
)ur own Revolutionary period, and certain important epochs in French and English history, 
■hich are best illustrated by the personal characteristics of the men who were prominent in them, 
ill receive attention. While permanent value will thus be given to this collection, the purpose 
I the series, as e.xpressed in the title, shall never be lost sight of, and every care shall be taken 
) make each volume an agreeable companion for the hours of " idleness and care." 

Now ready. The initial volume of the series. 
HAYDON'S LIFE, LETTERS AND TABLE TALK. 

One volume, i2mo, with four illustrations. Portraits of Wordsworth^ 
Jaydoii, Keats and Wilkie^ and fac-simile of a letter by Haydon. Tastefully 
ound in extra cloth, black and crimson $1.50. 

" Since the appearance of the Greville Memoirs, there has been no collection of reminis- 
mces which compares with this in point and interest." — N. Y. Daily Times. 

The second volume, to be issued shortly, will be entitled 

' MEN AND MANNERS ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO." 

Edited by Mr. H. E. SCUDDER, 
.nd comprising extremely interesting reminiscences of persons distinguished 
1 this country during the Revolutionary period. One vol. i2mo., with 
lustrations, $1.50. 

*^* yi Prospecttis of the Sans-Soiici Series will he sent on applicatio7i. 

The ab^ve volumes sent to any address, prepaid, upon the receipt of the 
rice, by 

SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO., NEW YORK. 



BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES 



Opinions of the Press Eegarding the Series. 



" Edited finely, and in appearance simply elegant." — Ne^v Haven Journal and 
Courier . 

" There is something entirely original and fresh about the contents of these pretty 
volumes that makes them particularly attractive. The delicate morsels of literature are 
bo well served as to be easily digested, and at tlie same time so agreeable in taste as not 
to be readily forgotten." — N. Y. Daily World. 

" The Bric-d-Brac is the most attractive and entertaining series of books that has 
been projected for many years. No happier thought ever came from the brain of a 
publisher than that which culminated in presenting these compilations to the world. 
Multujn inparvo is here carried to its fullest stage of development, and with a result that 
has brought forth general commendation." — Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. 

" The purpose of this series is as unique as its execution is successful. The plan is to 
gather from all biographical sources recently issued all the most interesting reminiscences 
of celebrated men, and to present them in compact form. A more delightfully piquant 
series could not well be prepared, and the artistic beauty of literary and mechanical 
finish in which it is presented throws about it charms rare and racy." — Troy Times. 

'' Richard Henry Stoddard has performed a re:il service to literature in his ingenious 
compilation of the 'Bric-d-Brac Series.' * * * These books are printed neatly, i 
with attractive bindings, and are sold for $1.50. We have had no books from the press / 
for some time so well worth the money. They introduce «s to famous authors, and tell 
us in an hour as much good as the average mind cares to know." — iV. y. Herald. 

" There has never been a work of the sort conceived with a better comprehension of 
the needs and taste of the vast numbers of all sorts of readers, for whom it is designed. 

* * * One can take up any of the volumes and read ho.ir after hour without fatigue, 
or the slightest relaxation of interest; while another, who has but time to give to a page or 
two, will surely find a dainty intellectual lunch prepared for him." — Buffalo Commercial 1 
Advertiser . 

*'We have found infinite dx'-.^ht within these silver-drab covers, as delicate in 
color as are the rare personal vtorceaux \w\\\<^ they contain in quality. * * * * 

* * Mr. Stoddard is making a very popular series, and we can cordially mention it as 
one of the best m the whole range of light, healthfully-stimulating literature." — Rochester 
.Democrat and Chronicle. 

"These volumes contain about the most charming collection of literary gossip of its 
kind that can be found." — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. 

" Each succeeding issue of this Bric-d-Brac Series demonstrates afresh Mr. Stod- 
dard's fitness for the work of conducting it, and gives new proofs of his sagacity and ^ 
discrimination. By its intrinsic value, its unique design, and its exquisite mechanical 
execution, the series appeals strongly to all lovers of the biographic and autobiographic 
m literature." — Boston Journal. 



Each one vol., square 121110, cloth, $1 jo . Any or all soif, post- 
paid, on receipt of price by the publishers, 

SCRTBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO., 

743 and 745 Broadway, New York. 



"Infinite riches in a little room." —Marlowk. 

COMPLETION OF THE FIRST 

BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES. 

Personal Keminiscences of famous Poets and Novelists, Wits and 
Humorists, Artists, Actors, Musicians, and the like.' 

EDITED BY 

RICHARD flENRY STODDARD. 

Complete in ten volumes, square 12mo. Per vol. $1.50. 



The BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES has achieved for itself a success altogether 
exceptional in the hiscory of publishing in this country. 

OVER SIXTY THOUSAND VOLUMES 

Of the first series have been sold in eighteen months. The Bric-a-Brac 
Series constitutes a 

COMPLETE REPOSITORY OF REMINISCENCES 

Of prominent men and women of this and the last century. Characteristic 
anecdotes of every individual of note in art, literature, the drama, politics, oi 
society are related, and they are told by those who know how to give point to 
a good story. 

THE SERIES COMPRISES THE FOLLOWINd TEN VOLUMES: 



Chorley, Planche, and Young. 
Thackeray and Dickens, with fac-simile 

of a letter by Thackeraj'. 
Mbkimee, Lamartine, and Sand. 
Barham, Harness, and Hodder. 
V. The Greville Memoirs, with Portrait 
of Gr^ille. 
VI. Moore and Jerdan, with 4 Ilhistrations. 



II. 



III. 
IV 



VII. Cornelia Knight and_ Thomas 
Raikes, with 4 Illustrations. 
VIII. O'Keeffe, Kelly, and T'^vlor, with 
4 Illustrations. 
IX. Lamb, Hazlitt, and Others, with 4 
Illustrations and fac-simile of a letter 
by Lamb. 
X. Constable and Gillies, with 4 Illus. 
trations. 



A sixteen-page Descriptive Catalogue of the Series, containing Specimen Illus- 
trations, sent to any address ttpon application. 

% 

NOW BMAJyY: 

COMPLETE SETS OF THE BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES IN THE 
FOLLOWING STYLES: — 

1. Cloth, in a neat box $15 00 

2. Half vellum, red edges, in a handsome box, of an entirely new 

style 1 7.50 

3. Half calf, extra, in a handsome box, of an entirely new style 20.00 

Sent, post-paid, or express charges paid, on receipt of price by the Publishers, 

SORIBNER, ARMSTRONG, & GO. 

74:3 & 74:5 Broadway, New York* 



An Important Histo7dcal Series. 

Epochs of Modern History. 

EDITED BY 

EDWARD E. MORRIS, M.A., and J. SURTEES PHiLLPOTTS, B.C.L 



Each 1 vol, 16mo. with Outline Maps. Price per volume, in cloth, $1.00. 

HISTORIES of countries are rapidly becoming so numerous that it is almost impossible 
for the most industrious student to keep pace with them. Such works are, of course, 
still less likely to be mastered by those of limited leisure. It is to meet the wants of this 
very numerous class of readers that the Epochs of History has been projected. The series 
will comprise a number of compact, handsomely printed manuals, prepared by thoroughly 
competent hands, each volume complete in itself, and sketching succinctly the most impor- 
tant epochs in the world's history, always making the history' of a nation subordinate) to this 
more general idea. No attempt will be made to recount all the events ot any given period. 
The aim will be to bring out in the clearest light th„ salient incidents and features of each 
epoch. Special attention will be paid to the literature, manners, state of knowledge, and all 
those characteristics which exhibit the life of a people as well as the policy of their rulers 
during any period. To make the text more readily intelligible, outline maps will be given 
with each volume, and where this arrangement is desirable they will be distributed through- 
out the text so &s to be moi'e easy of reference. A series of works based upon this general 
jdan can not fail to be widely useful in popularizing history as science has been popularized. 
Those who have been discouraged from attempting more ambitious works because of their 
magnitude, will naturally turn to these Epochs of History to get a general knowledge of 
any period ; students may use them to great advantage in refreshing their memories and in 
keeping the true perspective of events, and in schools they will be of immense service as text 
books,— a point which shall be kept constantly in view in their preparation. 

THE POLL O WING VOL UMES ARE NO W READ Y : 

THE ERA OF THE PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. By F. Reehohm, Author 
of "The Oxford Reformers — Col et, Erasmus, More," with nn appendii^by Prof. 
Geo. p. Fisher, of Yale College. Author of " HISTORY OF THE REF- 
ORMATION." 

THE CRUSADES. By Rev. G. W. Cox, M.A., Author of the " History of 
Greece." 

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR, 1618-t648. By Samue^ Rawson Gardiner. 

THE HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK; with the CONQUEST and 
LOSS of FRANCE. By James Gairdner of the Public Record Ofncc. 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND FIRST EMPIRE: an Historical Sketch. 
By William O'Connor Morris, with an appendix by Hon. Andrew D. 
White, President of Cornell Universitj-. 

THE AGE OF ELIZABETH. By Rev. M. Creighton, M.A. 

THE FALL OF THE STUARTS AND WESTERN EUROPE FROM 
1678 io 1697. By Rev. E. Hale, M.A. 

THE PURITAN REVOLUTION 1603-1660. By S. R. Gardiner. 

4®" Copies sent post-paid, on receipt of price ^ by the Ful) Ushers, 

SCRIBNER, Armstrong & Co., 743 &- 7,'J Broadivay^New York- 



EPOCHS OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 

[Uniform with Epochs of Modern History.] 



Just published, the initial Volume with four colored 7naps. Price ^i.oo. 

THE GREEKS AND THE PERSIANS, By the Rev. George W. Cox, M.A., 
late Scholar of Trinity College, Oxford. • 

*** To be followed, at frequent intervals, by the following Works in cont:m(a- 
tion of the same Series : — 

SPARTAN AND THEBAN SUPREMACY. By Charles Sankey, M.A., late 
Scholar of Queen's College, Oxford, Joint-Editor of the Series. 

MACEDONIAN EMPIRE, its RISE and CULMINATION to the DEATH of 
ALEXANDER the GREAT. By A. M. Curteis, M.A., Assistant-Master, 
Sherborne School. 

ROME, to its CAPTURE by the GAULS. By Wilhelm Ihne, Author of 
" History of Rome." (Shortly.) 

ROME AND CARTHAGE, the PUNIC WARS. By R. Eos\yorth Smith, M.A. 
Assistant-Master, Harrow School. 

THE ATHENIAN EMPIRE, from the Flight of Xerxes to the Fall cf Athens. 
By the Rev. G. W. Cox, M.A., Joint-Editor of the Series. 

THE GRACCHI, MARIUS, AND SULLA. By A. H. Beesly, M..A., Asiistant- 
Master, Marlborough College. 

THE ROMAN TRIUMVIRATES. By the Very Rev. Charles Merivale, D.D., 
Dean of Ely. (Shortly.) 

THE EARLIER EMPIRE. By the Rev. W. Wolfe Capes, M.A., Reader of 
Ancient History in the University of Oxford. (Shortly.) 

THE AGE OF TRAJAN AND THE ANTONINES. By the . ev. W. Wolfe 
Capes, M.A., Reader of Ancient History in the University of Oxford. 



EACH I VOL. i6mO., CLOTH, UNIFORM. PRICE, Si. CO. 



SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO., 

/■v'J ^' 7-1 5 Bj'oadway, Neiv Yoj'k. 



Popular and Standard Books 



PUBLISHED BY 



SCRIBITEE, ARMSTRONG & CO., 

7^43 and. 'T'^^ ESroadxvay, IVevr "SToi'Iil, 
Xn. XO "Z 3. 



aNCISNT HISTORY FROM THE MONUMENTS. 3 vol.s.i2mo,z7/«j. Pervol.#i oe 
I Egypt ; from Earliest 'J'imes to B.C. 300. liy S. 1>ikch, LL.I>. 
II. Ass)Tia ; from E.-irliest Times to Fall of Nineveh. Hy Geokgk Smith. 
HI. Persia ; from Earliest Period to Arab Conquest. By W. Vaux, M.A. 
ALEXANDER, J. A, LIFE OF. By H. C. Alexander. Nero ed. at reduced 

price. Two vols, in one. Portraits. 8vo 2 5a 

BIBLE COMMENTARY. Vol. V. Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Lamentation.s 500 

BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES. Edited by R. H. Stouuakd. i2mo, cloth. Per vol. . . . i 50 

In Sets of 10 volumes, half calf, |^20 ; half vellum, $17.50; cloth 15 00 

Moore and Jerdan. i vol. With 4 tllus. 

Knight and Raikes. i vol. With 4 illus. 

O'Keefe, Kelly, and Taylor, i vol. IVitJi 4 illus. 

Lamb, Hazlitt, and others. i vol. With 4 illus., and fuc-simile 0/ 

letter by Land. 
Constable and G-illies. i vol. U'it/t 4 illus. 
ORAIK, G. L. A Compendious History of English Literature. Nein and 

clieaj>iy ed. 2 vols. 8vo, cloth 5 00 

DODGE, Mrs. M. M. Rhymes and Jingles, llitk 150 illus. New and clunper ed 1 50 

Hans Brinker; or, the Silver Skates. 15y I\Irs. RI. M. Doi>GE. New and 

eU'iant ed. Crown 8vo, full gilt, $3.50 ; plain 3 00 

EUSTIS, T. W. The Service of Praise. Square crown 8vo i 50 

EWBANK, T. Hydraulics. 15TH Edition. Illus 60c 

QILDER, R. W. The New Day: A Poem in Songs and Sonnets. i2mo i 50 

HARLAND, MARION. Breakfast, Luncheon, and Tea. i2mo i 75 

HBADLEY, J. T. Sacred Mountains, Scenes, and Characters Illus. {New ed.) 

1 2 mo 2 00 

The Andirondack. Illus {N'e^n ed.) i2mo 200 

Washington and His G-enerals. 16 Fortrmts. {New ed.) i2mo 2 50 

HODGE, CHARLES, LL.D- Systematic Theology. 3 vols. 8vo. Neii. and 

cheaper ed 12 00 

HOLLAND, J. G. Sevenoaks ; A Story of To-Day. 12 illus. i2mo i 75 

MORRIS, W. O'C. The French Revolution and First Empire. {In the "KJ'ochs 

of History " Series.) 3 maps. i2mo 1 00 

MULLER, Prof. F. MAX. Chips from a German Workshop Vol. IV. 

Crown Svo 2 50 

iVADAL, E. S. Impressions of London Social Life. i2mo i 50 

ROUSSELET, L. India and its Native Princes. 317 illus., many 0/ them 

full-page. Imp. 410, cloih. . ... 25 00 ■ 

SHIELDS, C .W. Religion and Science in their Relations to Philosophy. i2mo. 100 
CMITH, GEORGE. The Chaldean Account of Genesis. By Ceokge Smith.. 4 00 

STEPHEN, L. Hours in a Library. i2mo 175 

BTOOKTON, F, R. Roundabout Rambles. 200 illus. 4to. [New ed.) 200 

Tales Out of School. With inore than z^o illus. 4I0 a 50 

THOLUCK, A. Hours of Christian Devotion. i2mo 3' 00 

7ERNE, J. The Mysterious Island. In Three Parts, each one vol. i2mo, cloth. 

Illus. Price, per part 2 oo 

I. Dropped from the Clouds. 49 full-page illus. II. Abandoned. 49 full- 
page illus. III. The Secret of the Island, ^g full-j,,gc illus. 

Any, o>- all. of t'le above sent, post or express charges paid, on receipt of the p^jne. 



/\ New and Elegantly Illustrated Edition of 

HANS BRINKER; 

Or, THE SILVER SKATES. 

By Mrs. MARY MAPES DODGE, 

Author of '■'Rhymes and Jingles," and Editor of " St. Nicholas." 

With 60 Illustrations, after designs by the best French Artists. 



One vol., 12mo, cloth, beveled edges, $3.00. 

From the Nation, 
"We some time ago expressed our opinion that Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge's delightful 
ciiildren's story, called Hans Brinker ; or. The Silver Skates, deserved an entirely new 
dress, with illustrations made in Holland instead of in America. The publishers have just 
issued an edition in accordance with this suggestion, and we hope it is not too late in the 
season to announce the fact. The pictures are admirable, and the whole volume, in appearance 
and contents, need not fear comparison with any juvenile publication of the year, or of many 
years." 

From the Buffalo Courier. 
" Mrs. Dodge's beautiful story of Nans Brinker comes forth again radiant in the splendor 
of this new edition. The book is exquisitely printed and gorgeously bound, and the illustra- 
tions — well, some of them are the finest things 'on ice' we have lately seen, while ail give such 
quaint in-looks to the life and manners and scenery of Holland that the young reader can 
scarcely help vowing to travel thither as soon as he or she grows up. . . . We can well 
believe that wherever it goes it will become a children's classic." 

From the Syracuse fourttal. 
" Around this story of life in Holland Mrs. Dodge has woven, with charming grace and 
effect, the tender sentiments of childhood and youth, which she knows so well how to picture 
to life. Not one of the thousands of boys and girls who on Christmas Day will take up this 
beautiful volume will lay it down until the last leaf is turned." 

FroJtt the Boston Advertiser. 
"This book has been a great favorite not only in America but in other lands. The author 
has every reason to be gratified at the success and constant popularity of this charming 
narrative, which teaches so finely the noblest lessons of character and life, while picturing the 
customs and scenes of Holland. S. A. & Co. have done a good thing in publishing a new 
edition in a style befitting the holidays, and containing sixty illustrations of superior icerit." 

From the PhiladelJ>hia Inquirer, 
"The interest throughout is varied and sustained in a manner that leaves nothing to be 
desired, and the book is written in the piquant and fascinating style characteristic of the 
authoress. It is remarkably well illustrated and bound in a resplendent fashion. Nothing ot 
tile kind could be more acceptable to juveniles for a Christmas present." 



For sale by booksellers generally. Will be sent, fostfaid, on receipt of the frice by 
the publishers^ 

SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO., 

743 <fe 745 Broad-way, New York 



A STORY OF TO DAY. 



S EVE N OAK S 

By Dr. J. G. HOLLAND, 

Author of '' Bitter Szveet;' "- Kathrina;' &-c.^ &^c. 

WITH TWELVE FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS, 
By SOL. EYTINGE. 



One vol. 12mo. $1.75 



Dr. HOLL 

£ac/i hi 

The MISTRES.S of The MANSE 
♦BITTER SWEET, a Poem - 
*KATHR[NA ; a Poem - 
*LE1TERS TO YOUNG PEO- 
PLE 

♦GOLD-FOIL, hammered from 

Popular Proverbs 
♦LESSONS IN LIFE 
♦PLAIN TALKS on Familiar Sub- 
jects ----- 
LETTERS TO THE JONSES 



ANDS' WORKS. 
One Volume. i2mo. 



fi 50 
I so 
I 50 

I 50 

I 75 
I 75 

I 75 
I 75 



MISS GILBERT'S CAREER - §2 00 

BAY PATH 2 00 

THE MARBLE PROPHECY 

and other Poems - - - i 50 
GARNERED SHEAVES, Com- 
plete Poetical Works, "Bitter 
Sweet," "Kathrina," "Marble 
Prophecy," red line edition, 
beautifully illustrated. - - 4 00 
ARTHUR BONNICASTLE - i 75 



♦These six volumes are issued in Cabinet size (i6mo). " Brightwood Edition," 
at the same prices as above. 



CO- 









t, ^^^' 



:1 






^ -^^y 



^^ /^^^ 



v^- - 



''^<.4^' 



.^^ 



.0 o. 



-S^'^ 
.V'^ ^ 






\^ 









.0 -. 






.^^ ''^. 



vOc 



o\^' 






"-.- / ^:-€^' 



^^, v^^ 



,0^ 



'h. 






>' 



^-^ 



.v*--^ '•- 



V ,^\V 



